The Tale of Azure: Book I- Shades of Green and Blue
by Hoshikuzu 77
Summary: Since the Sortation, Myrtle finds comfort in being (almost) alone. Until the day she meets a strange girl from the infamous "snake pit". From acquaintances to friends, Myrtle and the Aura Seer Azure challenge old prejudices and learn how to be witches. At the same time, Tom Riddle, the "Heir of Slytherin" is making plans of his own, namely opening the Chamber of Secrets...
1. Introduction

**A/N: Hello and welcome to the introductory chapter of my series.**

**"The Tale of Azure" series is an Alternative Universe that starts 50 years before the events described in "Harry Potter" and also includes my own twists on other series' plotlines, as you will eventually find out. If this isn't to your liking, you can search other fanfics you feel more comfortable with.**

**Chronologically speaking, "Shades of Green and Blue" takes place in 1941 and ends in 1943, including flashbacks prior to these years.**

**Furthermore, the first book is a partial crossover series with: "The Vampire Diaries", "Vampire Knight", "Sinbad - The Legend of the Seven Seas" (one major character only), "Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji", "Anastasia (just one song) and "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them" (both films/movies). I also added a bit of mythology to serve as a secondary plotline.**

**The Unspeakable that is introduced at the end of this chapter is also a crossover character but her identity will remain a mystery for now.**

**Some of this series' characters were briefly mentioned in the books and the films, such as Olive Hornby (Myrtle's bully) and Avery and Lestrange, two Slytherin students and members of "Riddle's gang".**

**As for "warnings", I will be honest with you; "Harry Potter" may be a children book series but my stories are on the teenager/young adult side, hence why I rated this as "T" (PG-13 and PG-14). On certain chapters, I will add a label called "warning" in which I name the sensitive topics that are discussed, described or mentioned. Thank you Nocas for this advice, as well what you told me about "proofreading".**

**I don't have any Beta writer at the moment. This is also a re-edition; my chapters are archived but have yet to be analysed by proofreading applications (Grammarly and Slick Write).**

**To everyone, please review; I would very much enjoy reading your feedback. That's the best way for writers to improve their work.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the other characters from various series you may recognize. However, I do own my Original Characters.**

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**The Tale of Azure - Book I: "Shades of Green and Blue"**

**Introduction**

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The 13th June of 1937 began like any other day, at least for the many officials of the British Ministry of Magic. Inside of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, a notification of a sudden burst of accidental magic arrived. As per protocol, two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were dispatched to the child's address. Their mission was simple: to _Obliviate_ the Muggle-born and her family of what had happened. The child was far too young to understand magic. Like all of the magical children across Britain, she would be properly informed at age eleven.

Meanwhile, in Cambridgeshire, a girl sat cross-legged in her bed, curiously looking at a small black ball whose colour turned white, then blue with white stripes and finally red with black dots, reminding her of a ladybug. She grinned as the object took flight like a Quidditch golden Snitch, making some twirls and spins before it calmly hovered over her palm. Excited, she ran down the stairs, stopping when she found the housekeeper who crossed her arms before flapping her long ears. Then, the girl politely asked her to dance. The elf made a small bow before indulging in her charge's request with a fond look.

Inside of Wool's Orphanage in Muggle London, a quiet boy stared at his bedroom's window, his hand constantly tossing in the air the mouth organ he had "won" from a younger girl who had pushed him off the stairs because he could do "things". From the window, he saw other children – but not the girl or her friend - playing outdoors. A cold smirk grew on his face as he remembered a particular day in August when all the orphans had gone to the beach, making it the perfect time and place to execute his revenge against those two. Both had learned their lesson since that day; no one would dare to harm him again…unless they did not value their pathetic lives.

In the orphanage's playroom, a girl and a boy were curling on a corner, their knees pulled up and eyes unfocused and blank. The boy's hands were on his ears as if he was trying to block a sound only he could hear, his bottom lip trembling constantly as he rocked his head back and forth. The girl was holding an old photograph of two children dressed in noble Victorian clothes. A thin red mark was around the girl's wrists, something that herself, her friend and the boy who had brought them to a cave could see. A cold shiver began going down her entire body as the memories of that day slowly filled her mind, making the photograph fall on the floor like an autumn leaf.

Deep within a bookshop not too far from this orphanage, a young woman with blue eyes and brown hair tied in a ponytail was scribbling something on a piece of paper while a woman in her late twenties drank from a golden goblet. Casually leaning against the corner, she was levitating a black-leathered journal with her free hand. A pair of light green eyes flickered with amusement as the journal opened by itself on the last page, which contained a small watermark: "_Winstanley's Bookstore Stationers"._

In Scotland, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a female Ghost and a witch were having tea and biscuits inside of the latter's personal office while they watched a glowing circle in front of them. The spectre's usual stern eyes softened when an image filled the circle: a young witch gently holding both hands with a Seer whose glowing silver curls reminisced of shining stars. A grim look appeared on the Ghost's features as the Seer's voice began to sound more mature, the words of a prophecy of one thousand years old leaving her lips unconsciously.

Inside of the British Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries, one of the thousand spun-glasses of the shelves of the Hall of Prophecy was glowing. In Its tag, one could read:

_E.A.T. through H.H. to H.R._

_The Heir of Slytherin (?),_

_and the Heiress of Slytherin (?)_

The Unspeakable stationed there made a mental note of reporting this and continued her rounds.

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** Thank you for reading; the next chapter will soon be posted.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my original characters.**

**A/N: This is another introductory chapter. No dialogue as you can see; it is just a little background on one of my main characters. **

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**Chapter One: Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane**

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Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane, or as she liked being called, "Azure", was the only child of Liam and Eurelie Ashlane, a couple of experienced Aurors. Born at precisely noon of the last day of the year of 1926, she was also an Aura Seer.

Her paternal family, the Ashlanes, had a motto: _Acceptance First and Foremost_, which seriously contrasted with the _Toujours Pur_ of the House of Black or the Malfoys' _"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper"_. To be more specific, Ashlanes had never mistreated others for their supposed "lesser blood status" and were respected in the magical or non-magical societies.

In fact, their fascination with Muggle culture rivalled or perhaps surpassed the Weasleys, coupled with their scholarly interest and mutual respect for all species, including Vampires, Werewolves, Goblins, Centaurs, and Merpeople and so on.

Therefore, generations of Ashlane children would find themselves comfortable with a "hybrid" upbringing: the usual stuffy Pure-blood social manners and weekly lessons about Muggle sciences, board games, sports, psychology, history, languages, music, dancing, philosophy, arts, and literature.

Around the last decades of the nineteenth century, an Ashlane had embarked on a long journey around the globe, hoping to make a difference in the society he had been born. Returning to England in 1915 and publishing his first book in less than half a year, he would become the acclaimed winner of the Golden Quill Award for five consecutive years, writing under the pen name of Robin Lincoln Wood, or as his fans called him "Professor Wood". His innovative work on Muggle customs and traditions – and also other continents' wizards and witches – would become a reader's choice, attracting young and old people alike.

The young Azurelia had too grown up in this kind of environment and loved magic for the good that could bring to others. She shared a familial bond with Tingly, an old elf, and Dimply and Blinky. The three worked and lived on the Manor, being paid accordingly.

They genuinely liked their employers and saw them as a surrogate family, sentiments that had been echoed by the previous Ashlane children.

On the morning of 1st of September of 1938, Tingly accompanied Azurelia to Diagon Alley to help her buy school supplies. The last stop they had done was Ollivander's, the place where the young girl purchased her own wand after her first try revealed itself to be quite unsettling; the wand had burnt her hand instantly, a reaction that only happened with Aura Seers.

During her time at the shop, she also learned about the Spiral Wand, a mysterious wand that Wandlore either doubted or believed in its existence, something that also applied to the Elder Wand. According to Garrick Ollivander, the Spiral Wand's first owner had lived one thousand years ago and relinquished the ownership to someone who had to fulfil three specific conditions to be recognized as the new wielder.

And such successor had not been found until now.

But on that day, Azurelia would put that aside, for her life was about to change in the form of a meeting.

Three years later, another meeting would take place under an oak tree, with both parties being unaware that they were part of something much bigger than themselves.

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	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. However, I do own my Original Characters.**

**A/N: The last introductory chapter. A bit of background for Myrtle, before she was the unfriendly and gloomy ghost who haunts bathrooms and indulges in mild voyeurism...**

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**Chapter Two: Myrtle Elizabeth Warren**

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Myrtle Elizabeth Warren had been born at precisely two minutes before midnight of 13th June 1928 in a quiet Irish village. She was the middle child of Sean and Bronwyn Finnigan-Warren. Her father was part of the village's law enforcement and her mother was a teacher in the local elementary school and one of the three children of the late famous spy and war hero Colonel Morgan Jamison Finnigan, codenamed "MJ" by his SIS' peers.

She also had grown up hearing her maternal grandfather's war stories with her older brother Keane who currently lived in Lyon with his fiancée Céleste Delacour. He would visit his family during the holidays and his sister's birthday, which was always celebrated on the 13th of June. Why?

Because she had a fraternal twin who was born two minutes after midnight of the 13th June: Holly Victoria Warren.

Well, they had some things in common: their middle names were homages to two powerful queens, they had the same periwinkle eyes and raven hair. Myrtle's was straight; Holly's locks were wavy.

Now, the Warren twins were as different as night and day; Myrtle was the "clever twin" while Holly was the "talented twin".

Myrtle was melancholic and rarely smiled, especially after Keane left the house and their grandfather's passing. She was also short-sighted and had to use thick spectacles which became a source of teasing by her sister.

Holly had a perfect sight and was energetic, well-behaved – except around Myrtle –, enjoying in being the family's centre of attention. The youngest Warren also played the violin and the piano very well and had joined the local church's choir since age five. She was the best of her class in everything except for mathematics.

On the other hand, Myrtle had a passion for reading, solving puzzles, lemon-based sweets, and bubble baths. In fact, one of her favourite hobbies was to make bubbles of soap. It was one of the few things in which she was better than her "perfect sister". She had always felt a connection with water. Holly had her music and singing voice; Myrtle was perfectly fine with just herself and her bubbles.

So, on Holly's eight birthday, Myrtle was playing alone in the bathtub full of foam and bubbles when small droplets of water started going upwards, some spiralling, others shaping into stars, moons and even animals: a raven and a snake protecting a baby eagle from a second snake that was about to attack the small bird, which did not make any sense; reptiles and birds were natural enemies. Why would a snake behave like this?

Other questions followed: what was she doing? Was this magic? But the Bible said that witchcraft was evil! But how could something like this be evil?

One thing was certain; Holly could never find out. Her younger sister was very mean when Myrtle did something she could not. She would pull Myrtle's hair until she got bored, ignoring her twin's screams of pain. One time, she even threatened to cut off her hair with scissors before their brother entered the bedroom and admonished Holly for being a "bad sister". Days later, Myrtle woke up finding locks of her own hair scattered on the side of her bed and her stuffed animals slashed with scissors. She knew who was the culprit and it had saddened her a lot when her own sister refused to admit it…

Her reminiscing was cut abrupt when Holly entered without knocking as always – she only did that when Myrtle was using the bathroom, scaring her on purpose. Her twin then shouted, a cry of both surprise and fear. She quickly left the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The shapes of water fell into the tub with a sound "POP", leaving Myrtle sobbing and crying as echoes of Holly's shout "Witch!" to her from seconds before began reverberating in her mind.

And for the first time in her life, she hated the fact that Holly (no, herself) existed and wished to disappear.

She lost control; the level of the water rose exponentially, overflowing and flooding the bathroom. In spite of the noise, she had heard a rustling sound.

The last thing she saw was a pair of blurry figures with sticks, followed by a flash of pale green.

The following morning, the four members of the Warren family woke up with no recollections of the incident.

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	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my OCS.**

**A/N: At last, our story begins!**

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**Chapter Three: New Life, New School**

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Throughout the last years of Grindelwald's Revolution and World War II, Hogwarts functioned as well as any other magical school would, with students committed to learning magic, some more than others. While some thrived in being powerful wizards and witches, others tried to live quasi-ordinary school lives, avoiding students' mocking words and mean pranks that ranged from his/her hairstyle, quirks, to their blood status.

For Muggle-borns, bullying was an unfortunate occurrence…even more when the victim had barely any self-confidence whatsoever.

Myrtle Elizabeth Warren fitted this description to a "T".

She wanted nothing more than be like her parents, grandparents and her siblings, a desire that stemmed from the discovery of her powers that had severe repercussions on her relationship with her family, culminating on the day that a person wearing strange robes – who introduced himself as "Hogwarts' Professor of Arithmancy, Tertius Weasley" – showed up at her house's doorstep, explaining her abilities were proof she was a witch and that their memories of previous magical incidents had been erased by professionals, including the first one that had happened on the 13th of June of 1937.

To say the family was shocked was an understatement. After the strange person left, her twin scowled at her and never spoke another word to Myrtle until the next day. Myrtle had simply sulked in her "treehouse" – Keane had built it for them – stuffing her head in her favourite book _The Hobbit_ while trying to forget that there was a magical boarding school in Scotland that she had to attend for the next seven years.

Few days before September, the eldest Warren twin and her parents spent a morning in a place called "Diagon-Alley", converting money to wizarding currency in "Gringotts Bank", which she used to buy a wand – ash wood and dragon heartstring core, 9 and half inches, "reasonably pliable", according to Mr. Ollivander - a cauldron, robes, books and a female owl as companion before boarding the _Hogwarts Express _on the first day of the nine month.

The voyage was so long that she had the opportunity to read some chapters of one of the manuals – Mrs Bagshot's _Hogwarts: An History _was particularly intriguing – and eating a pumpkin pastry from the trolleys. In mid-journey, she also met a rude blond girl called Olive Hornby...who instantly teased her for her glasses and the crucifix she was wearing before exchanging giggles with two other "Pure-blood" girls. Despite she had no idea of what the word meant, Myrtle had hazarded a guess that it was something for a witch or a wizard to be proud of.

Nevertheless, not fifteen minutes after meeting that trio, Myrtle was storming out of the compartment, one hand dragging her trunk and the other tightly grabbing the small crucifix. After entering inside of an empty compartment, she locked it for good measure and concealed the crucifix under her clothes. She cried silently during the rest of the trip.

In the late afternoon, she arrived at her new school – which was a gigantic castle – and stood in the Great Hall along with the other first years as they watched Professor Selwyn calling their names. They would sit on a bench and then, a talking hat would announce their House loud and clear.

She lost her sense of normalcy in seconds; in this world, hats could talk.

Following the Sortation Ceremony that ended up with Myrtle joining Ravenclaw – and much to her dismay, Hornby as well – a House that prized wisdom and creativity above everything, Myrtle began her classes. Some things were hard to do and others, the opposite.

However, her concentration always dampened when someone whispered nasty things behind her back or stole her materials and clothes. Consequently, she avoided talking to students in general, preferring the solace of places like the library, the "Come-and-Go Room" – who she had found out by mere accident during one of her crisis – the top of the Astronomy Tower and the Clock Tower.

The only exception to this was Minnie. Formally, Minerva McGonagall, she was a third year who sometimes helped Myrtle with Transfiguration assignments. She was also in the Gryffindor's Quidditch Team, playing as a Keeper. Like Myrtle, Minnie adored reading, which had helped in building a good friendship.

However, this meant Myrtle had no friends of her own age, unlike the rest of her Housemates. But what kind of person would possibly want to be friends with "Moaning Myrtle" or other insulting nicknames that students had made up for her?

"No one," Myrtle muttered out loud from the top of the Clock Tower, clenched fists at her sides and tears falling down her cheeks.

No matter how much she wished, she would never fit in here.

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	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my original characters.**

**A/N: In this chapter, we have two special appearances: our favourite Transfiguration Professor and a Hufflepuff Prefect called (name) Diggory. Coincidence? I think not. xD**

**Trigger warnings: past suicide attempts (Myrtle), bullying (implied)**

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**Chapter Four: Mean Ravenclaws and Brave Slytherins**

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During Myrtle's first week in Hogwarts, older students from Ravenclaw had explained to the first years that it was preferable to stay away from Slytherins, especially if they were Muggle-borns, while also adding that Muggle-borns from Gryffindor or Gryffindors, in general, were more likely to be harassed by the snakes because of the big rivalry Gryffindor-Slytherin that had started not too much after Salazar Slytherin left the school, which in turn was related to their opposite views on teaching Muggle-borns: Slytherin was against this, Gryffindor approved and strongly encouraged it.

Despite this, Myrtle had frequently wondered if the Hat had made a mistake during Olive Hornby's Sortation. Her Housemate had barely passable grades but possessed the cunning and the resourcefulness that Slytherins were known for. She also had never been pranked by another student. Instead, she did the pranking, sometimes joining other senior students from Slytherin who tolerated her because she was related to a Bulstrode and her grandparents were supposedly very wealthy Half-bloods – she liked to brag the fact they owned some shops in Diagon Alley. The Pure-blood girls treated her as one of their own.

Few weeks after beginning her new education, Myrtle had realized that Olive Hornby's favourite target was Myrtle, the Muggle-born who was known in the entire school as "Moaning Myrtle". The girl who would lock herself in the bathroom of the first floor for hours, crying rivers of tears and sometimes damage her wrists with everything pointy – scissors, a quill – hoping to end her own life. Of course, no one knew of that last part except for Minnie who usually comforted her when Myrtle was resting at the Hospital Wing. Every time she was there, Myrtle would say they were just "accidents". She knew that Minnie did not fully believe her, but she was grateful when she did not insist on the matter.

This time, the raven-haired had been hit by a _Colloshoo_ and a _Locomotor Wibbly._ People would pass by her without saying anything or mocking her instead, which was the case for Slytherins. She also was aware that she was too late to attend Professor Flitwick's Charms class, which she was not that bad at, comparing with Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Eventually, help came in the shape of a tall and stern-faced brunette with square-rimmed glasses who wore the same uniform and black robes as Myrtle, except hers had a "Prefect" broach on it and her tie was coloured golden and maroon. It was Minnie.

Pulling out her wand, she pointed it at Myrtle, instantly ending the hexes. The junior student noted that the fifth year had not even uttered the words; non-verbal spells were Minnie's forte. She was also interested in pursuing an internship under famous Transfiguration Masters after graduating and eventually teaching young wizards and witches. But for Myrtle, the thought of Minnie leaving was simply too sad to bear.

_No, you can't just go! What will happen after you're gone? _

"McGonagall!"

Myrtle jumped with fright at the male voice addressing her friend, puffy bespectacled eyes flickering to the tall and lean figure striding to where they were. The yellow and black tie identified him as a Hufflepuff, while the broach on his robes meant he too was a Prefect.

"What did the twins do now, Diggory?" Minnie asked him, her bespectacled piercing grey eyes locking with his own. "Planted dung bombs under your Prefects' bed? Stole your favourite _Montrose Magpies_' cloak?"

Diggory huffed in indignation almost instantly. "Like I would let those rascals near Grandfather's cloak!"

The Gryffindor arched one eyebrow before folding her arms. "Then, why the shouting, Jonah?" Myrtle felt the accusing tone and the sheer authority the older girl was exuding. "And do correct me if I am wrong; the only times in which you act like this is when Alphard Black and Charlus Potter are involved."

Despite the sudden frown, Myrtle noted he was rather handsome, with chiselled features, dark blond hair with bangs partially stopped just above his forehead, and bright russet-brown eyes. However, he was already seeing someone, a Slytherin named Mon…Monfay? Yes, that was the name.

But then again, from what little she knew about the older girl, Monfay's relationships did not last that long…

_Use your Ravenclaw logic; no boy would ever take an interest in "Moaning Myrtle"!_ She mentally admonished herself while staring at the frowning boy.

"It's her again!" He blurted.

Minnie shook her head at this, eyes closed as she rubbed her hands to her temples before letting out a deep sigh.

Whoever this girl was, Myrtle could presume that she had quite the rebellious personality. Minnie almost never looked exhausted when she was conducting her Prefect duties; even the "twins" – Slytherin Alphard Black and Gryffindor Charlus Potter – were not siblings but they were always seen together and physically they looked very much alike, except that the grey-eyed Black lacked the light blue eyes of Potter, which frequently misled people into thinking they were twins – never caused this effect on her and they were real troublemakers. At the same time, they were extremely popular among the opposite gender.

Perhaps she should leave since it looked like she hardly could take part in the conversation that was unfolding before her…no, not until this mystery is solved.

"Avery?" Minerva asked knowingly. Now, that was a name Myrtle had heard countless times; Cyril Avery was a fourth-year good-looking and wealthy Pure-blood from Slytherin who flirted and dated girls on a weekly basis. Hornby and Travers had a crush on him. As for Fortescue, Myrtle had heard more than once the Slytherin girl boldly state to the others that the one who deserved her love was "my beloved Thomas".

"That would be true if this was 24th November, '39," Diggory replied with a snort. "Do you remember what happened at the Dueling Club with the second years? The accident?"

"As I was there, to label that an 'accident' is quite incorrect," Minnie retorted before adjusting her glasses. "She used _Reducto_, literally kicked Avery's wand, grabbed him by his tie and smacked him in the face. He instantly fell to the ground. It took two Prefects to hold her from hitting him again. Selwyn was livid...he took 60 points from her and gave her detention." She pinched her nose in clear frustration, adding as an afterthought, "At least Slughorn was not there...anyways, who was this time?"

"Mulciber and Lestrange," Diggory replied. "Apparently, they tried to drown a first-year Hufflepuff named Elliot Johnson – a Muggle-born – on the Dark Lake. Her words, not mine."

"By Godric! Is the boy safe?" The Gryffindor Prefect asked fearfully, her hand poised over the heart as Myrtle's hands balled into fists.

Muggle-born attacks were an everyday scene in Hogwarts, long before she had entered the school. She too had gotten her fair share of stupid pranks.

"Just a scare." Despite the reassuring tone, his eyes did not show that. "But like always, it is Ashlane's word against those two. It also didn't help that she admitted to attacking them and the first-year has no idea of what happened either."

Myrtle merely pursed her lips at the way he was describing the incident; despite her continued ignorance of this Ashlane person's identity, she had heard about the fifth year Mulciber and the fourth year Lestrange. They were Slytherin students who made fun of Muggle-borns and sometimes threatened them or bribed them into doing 'favours'. However, they were not the only ones; she had seen Pure-blood Heirs or Heiresses lurking in the corridors cornering younger boys and girls of lesser blood status.

Nevertheless, whenever something "nasty" or unexplainable happened in this school, Slytherins were to blame; for instance, in her second year, a fourth-year and Muggle-born Gryffindor had been found in a corridor completely unconscious, wearing nothing more than her nightdress. She also had some recent cuts on her legs and arms.

Myrtle knew this because the older girl had been taken to the Hospital Wing where she herself was due to receiving treatment for her own injuries; this time, she had used scissors.

With her back turned to the door and periwinkle blue eyes distractedly looking at her bandaged wrists, the petite frowned when she heard the soft steps of Madam Burnett entering the Wing and her concerned voice, fussing over what happened to "Miss Calder" - who apparently had no recollections of the incident whatsoever – while speaking in hushed tones with the Head of Gryffindor House, Professor Leonia Longbottom. Myrtle felt her heart skip a beat when the Mediwitch mentioned that "Mudblood" had been carved in the girl's chest with magic. In turn, the House Head had shared with her colleague she suspected the involvement of Mulciber and Lestrange, later remarking the irritating lack of evidence…

"Oh for the love of…sorry, Myrtle," the aforementioned girl's musings were cut off by Minnie's voice, sympathetic grey eyes gazing into her own bespectacled ones. The Ravenclaw gave her a wan smile, carefully hiding her annoyance at not knowing something. "I think it is best if you go to class. It's Defense now, right?"

Myrtle hummed unhappily, eyes downcast. "I understand. Prefect stuff."

A hand on her shoulder made her look up, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. "Don't worry about Charms. I will talk to Professor Flitwick about your absence in today's class."

Giving Minnie a shy nod, Myrtle held her schoolbook closely to her chest before she began to walk slowly towards the classroom, the Prefects' arguing still audible enough for her to listen. "You cannot possibly think she is involved in that attack. Roxanne Macmillan or Walburga Black, maybe yes. But Ashlane?"

"She is a Slytherin," he retorted sharply. "And she is in the Slug Club, remember?"

The unmistakable sound of Minnie's famous 'Minerva chop' was heard the second he finished the sentence. "Diggory, are you thick in the head? The Slug Club is almost all composed by Pure-blood Heirs!"

"So?"

Myrtle paused in her steps and waited for Minny's reply.

"They particularly hate her. Merlin, Ashlane's family is looked down by them. It has always been like that for generations…"

The voices disappeared, leaving behind a puzzled Myrtle who, seconds later, began walking toward the classroom.

_A Slytherin hated by other Slytherins? That is…impossible. _

Shaking her head at the ridiculous thought, the petite took a deep breath and opened the door, flinching at the disapproving look on Merrythought's features.

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	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my original characters.**

**Trigger warnings: bullying.**

**Chapter Five: The Strange Girl from Slytherin**

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Myrtle wasn't expecting that she could hate another person like her sister who had stopped talking to her after she sent her first letter by owl to her family. Yet, she did: Olive Hornby. A girl who Myrtle saw as a blonde replica of Holly: mean, popular and pretty. A girl who would throw hexes to first years and Myrtle because she felt like it. The girl who had killed Gandalf, Myrtle's owl, despite that there was little evidence supporting this theory. The arsenic was a jab at Myrtle's Muggle-born status.

For a Half-blood, Hornby was very disdainful towards Muggle-borns, which had increased her popularity among the Slytherins.

After two years of having one friend, Myrtle reached a conclusion: loneliness was her only true companion that would help her during the remaining years of school. Myrtle could care less for friendship or bonding with students of her own House, despite Minnie's insistence that she should make an effort.

It was easier said than done.

If Myrtle had begun to hate her life at Hogwarts, the Holidays with her family only discouraged her from studying magic, which was mainly caused by Holly. Her twin's acting was as good as her singing voice: to her parents – who remained ignorant of the bullying and her suicide attempts because she had kept it secret – Holly was the "perfect daughter". In short, Holly was not also her younger twin but the apple of her parents' eye. Logically, she was the one who almost the entire family doted on.

However, to Myrtle, she would show her true colours by hitting her harshly when they were alone. The Warren twins grew apart with each day to the point of Holly "accidentally" pushing her into the village's river. Myrtle had almost drowned that day.

The outcome of this burst of magic had been a Ministry letter being sent to her house on the grounds of underage magic.

"Holly ignored me for the rest of the week." She kicked a pebble in anger. "I am sick of it."

Muttering about the unfairness of her life, the Ravenclaw walked down the stone path that led to her latest favourite spot in all of Hogwarts: a centuries-old oak located not too far from the Astronomy Tower. Its shade also served as a nice place to read or rest until the time for dinner, while the bark had small or medium-sized indentations that were typical of someone practising spells.

But the most unsettling thing about this tree's bark was a strange symbol that looked like a triangular eye, the eye being a circle around a straight vertical line. Below it, the sentence "For the Greater Good" had been engraved with magic, a bunch of words that did not make any sense to Myrtle until she read in the newspapers about Grindelwald and his "philosophy" of a better world which basically meant Muggle genocide, reminding her of Hitler and his anti-Jewish (not just Jews, but especially them) views.

Frankly, both men gave her the shivers. She hoped that Grindelwald's capture would not take too long and that the "Muggle World War" – as wizarding newspapers called it – would also end.

Arriving at the tree, Myrtle held closer the book she was carrying and sat in the small portion of uneven soil that was perfect for someone to accommodate themselves. Leaning against the bark, she began reading the book, carefully mimicking the necessary wrist movements to cast spells she was struggling to perform in Professor Merrythought's class. As time went by, her eyelids became heavier...

The last thing she heard before falling asleep was the melodic chirping of nearby sparrows.

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When she woke up again, Myrtle quickly checked up her schedule. Sighing over the fact the next class today would be Potions, started to pick up her things. Raising from her spot, she turned around and saw a dark silhouette on the top of a branch that was too much bigger to belong to a squirrel or a bird. Squinting her eyes, the bespectacled girl looked closer and her eyebrows rose in surprise: there was a sleeping girl sitting on the highest, as well the most instable-looking branch. She had long dark blue hair with a distinctive white streak on the right side of her face and the uniform tie adorned her hair like a braid. The girl also looked a bit older than Myrtle. One leg was loosely hanging off the branch and one arm was on the back of her head, the second resting on her lap. Her hand was on the top of what could be a sketchbook.

In another branch, a Hogwarts cloak, a black suitcase, and a pouch had been hung in a precarious position.

Eyes showing a mix of wariness and inquisition, Myrtle was conflicted between alerting the other student for literally being on the edge of falling several meters down and going her own way, back to another dreadful Potions class. She did not dislike Professor Slughorn, but the subject just didn't appeal to her and her partner was awful to her.

In the end, her "Gryffindor Myrtle" won the battle and she shouted (which came out more like a shrill) to the girl who instantly opened her eyes and expertly jumped to the ground, centimetres away from Myrtle's face. Immediately, the raven-haired let out a small shriek. The other girl's eyes were of different colours: one was dark grey, the other was golden. Also, both eyes showed unbridled curiosity and the bright smile on the owner's face seemed genuine and friendlier than what she was used to seeing in her school life.

Another second passed and the items levitated into its owner's waiting hand. The girl then put away the sketchbook inside the pouch - an Extensible Charmed object, definitely - and rearranged the tie – emerald and silver, which meant Slytherin - in its proper place. Placing the cloak around the crook of her right arm, she adjusted the strap of the suitcase with the other hand. Myrtle idly noticed the tip of a wand peeking out of its owner's sleeve before it disappeared back into its hiding place.

"Quite a good spot, don't you think?" Those were the first words Myrtle heard from the mouth of the girl who was gesturing at the tree with her thumb. "Nice and quiet, a good shade."

Putting her hands on her hips in a reprehending gesture, Myrtle admonished her, "What were you thinking?! You could have broken an arm or two!"

"Relax, Twin-tails," the girl said, raising her hands in a placating gesture, mismatched eyes showing playfulness. However, Myrtle was not happy with the name she had just been christened with, remembering all the stupid nicknames other students had given to her, driving her to near seclusion, consequences be damned. "I appreciate your concern, but I am used to sleeping in high places, like over there." She pointed her thumb to the roof of the Astronomy Tower. "A bit too high perhaps. However, you get the feeling you're reaching the clouds." Her dreamy tone was promptly dismissed by Myrtle who considered it as another of this strange girl's quirks, ignoring the slap on her shoulder. "See you in class then, Twin-tails".

Cheeks puffing off in embarrassment, Myrtle could not restrain herself anymore and shouted to the unnamed girl who was well already on her way back, each step sounding weaker. "Hey! I…I am…" She stammered with hands curled into fists, bespectacled eyes angrily looking at the floor before she rose her head. "I have a proper name!" Myrtle did not remember the last time she had shouted in a non-shrilling annoying voice. Usually, when she was being subjected to verbal abuse, she would ignore them and later suffer in silence. But she could sense this girl's intentions did not have any ulterior motives, which compelled the twelve years old to tell her full name fearlessly. "It's Myrtle. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren!"

The girl smiled over her shoulder and quickly descended down the stone path right where Myrtle was, extending her hand in a friendly gesture. "My name is Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane, born on 31st December at precisely noon, Slytherin and currently repeating the third year. But you can simply call me Azure," she shrugged. "Or anything that you choose and..." Her face approached Myrtle's, the latter blushing at the proximity. "Periwinkle..." She breathed, clearly mesmerized by Myrtle's eyes.

"What?"

"That's the shade of your eye colour, isn't it? Periwinkle blue," the Slytherin clarified.

"What about it?" Myrtle asked back in a defensive tone, suspicion flashing in her eyes.

"They are beautiful," Ashlane said bluntly, adding in a softer voice. "Just like their namesake…and their owner."

Those words did it; at first, she wanted nothing more than to find a place to bury her head in like ostriches do in times of distress – as she had read in a book – due to the sudden compliment - she never received a compliment before, not like this – but now...Myrtle was feeling strange. As if this girl in front of her would become someone important to her. But that would take time; not too much after being Sorted, Myrtle had become distrustful of the other students on a principle basis.

"Ashlane, huh?" She repeated, shying away from the hand as if it was something poisonous. "Why would I believe anything you say to me? You could just be mocking me like all of you Slytherins do!"

"It's your choice to believe me or not," The girl replied easily, her hand still extended. "So…are we waiting for the grass to grow or what? Take it or leave it."

After an uncomfortable silence, Myrtle gave in and shook it once, her eyes unblinking. "This does not mean we are friends."

"As I said, it will always be your own choice." The look in her mismatched eyes became sharper, but Myrtle did not feel malicious intent, just pure honesty. "I don't want to force you to anything. And I don't want to know you because I pity you; it severely irritates me those that do it." The Ravenclaw concurred inwardly; she too didn't want anyone's pity. In spite of this, something was telling her that this Ashlane girl – it would take some time until Myrtle reached a first-name-basis – would be different…

_"__Trust your instincts." _

An image of a man with periwinkle blue eyes, an aged face, reddish-grey hair and whose bangs nearly fell on his eyes flashed in her mind.

Grandpa. His catchphrase was "Trust your instincts". According to him, this "gut feeling" had saved his life more than once.

For two years, she had put her trust in the wrong people. Two years of experience with backstabbers which had caused enough scars, some not only physical. The only person who had not betrayed her was Minnie.

"Fine then. We will be…acquaintances."

And with an imperious tone of voice befitting of a Pure-blood Heiress, she spun on her heel, chin raised up haughtily.

"Oh, we really should hurry up because we're already late for Professor Slughorn's class," Ashlane remarked with both hands behind her head. "As much I adore that man's understanding personality, I don't want any Prefect or Prefect-to-be to comment on our tardiness." She childishly stuck her tongue and squinted her eyes as if she had just eaten something very spicy. "Especially _him_."

Myrtle gave Ashlane a look that clearly said "elaborate", which she did one second later, hand poised over her heart before a dramatic sigh left her mouth. "The one and only Golden Boy of our most excellent school..." Her mismatched eyes narrowed in clear dislike and her voice became more ominous-sounding. "…Tom Riddle."

Myrtle blinked; that name was the same name that would be frequently mentioned by the inseparable and insufferable threesome – Patricia Travers, Lorena Fortescue, and Olive Hornby – as they gossiped over a tall, darkly handsome boy…otherwise called by Fortescue as "my beloved Thomas".

_It could be him…but why does this girl seem to hate the Riddle boy when from what I've heard, he is well-liked by everyone, except for Minnie?_

The name automatically brought a small smile in the petite's face. During the weekend, they would sit side by side in the library with their respective books and study together. Minnie had also taught the petite girl to play chess, although Myrtle had only been victorious a couple of times.

On the other hand, Minnie had never lost a game until Myrtle saw the defeated look on the older girl's face as her king piece was cornered in every way possible by the opponent player's pawn and a bishop. In other words, "Checkmate." The player in question had been the "tall, darkly handsome" Tom Riddle. She knew Minnie would hold a grudge; the older girl was very competitive and a talented student, which had served as the fuel she needed to become a Prefect.

_Wait a minute…months ago, Diggory and Minnie were talking about a female student who had rescued a Muggle-born…and that the student was the same person involved in a duelling incident,_ a frown appeared on her bespectacled face._ What was the name of the student again?_

_"__You cannot possibly think she is involved in that attack. If we were talking about __Roxanne MacMillan or Walburga Black, maybe yes. But Ashlane?"_

"Probably, this Ashlane is the same girl Minnie was talking about…" Myrtle mused lowly, slowing in her steps as she thought about the events that had transpired some minutes ago. Letting out a sigh, the petite realized what this meant; being a Ravenclaw, Myrtle enjoyed solving puzzles and today she had met another one: a strange girl from Slytherin.

She was incapable of denying the fact she felt…intrigued by this Ashlane who was a Slytherin and acted nothing like a normal Slytherin: defending Muggle-borns and attacking Pure-bloods?

She snorted mentally at the unlikely scenario. _That would be the equivalent to Malfoy suddenly proclaiming his undying love for Elaine Weasley._

But why did the girl mention Professor Slughorn? Myrtle was pretty sure the girl was not her classmate in Potions...or did she?

Suddenly, a dark blue head and arms positioned as a makeshift cushion that usually rested against the Slytherin table flashed in her mind. Myrtle had never given too much thought to it before; there were more important issues she needed to sort out…

_Either way, you're just an enigma for me to solve. That's it!_ She thought decidedly, walking side by side with the strange girl from Slytherin called Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane.

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	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" or Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler), only my characters.**

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**Chapter Six: The Blood-traitor and the Half-blood Golden Boy**

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Azure was about to open the door of Dungeon Five when a cool voice from behind them made itself clear.

"Well, well, late again are we, Ashlane?"

She did not need to turn her head to know who it was but she did anyway, albeit not until she offered the petite a _Funtom Chocolate_ bar, quickly whispering that she could enter first. Warren muttered "thank you" and entered the classroom, closing the door behind her.

The Slytherin let out a sigh of relief; Warren did not need to meet someone like _him_ who hated Muggle-borns and Muggles despite the fact he had non-magical blood in his veins. He was just like most of her Housemates: prideful twits who hated everyone below their status and had a long withstanding rivalry against Gryffindor, another equally prideful house, if not a bit nicer than her own House. As for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, she got relatively along with them. Though, she was aware of the underlying stigma of being a Slytherin student, whose stereotype was he or she thought that only Pure-bloods were the "real wizards", despising Muggles and "Blood-traitors".

Ironically, she was one of those so-called "Blood-traitors" and the Hat had placed her in Slytherin, the House that put blood status above everything. Now, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a Half-blood who masked his Muggle parentage very well. Few people knew that Marvolo was the name of the former Head of the Gaunts before his wife (and elder sister) Pleia passed away and he fell into disgrace, forever shunned by wizarding society. One of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" and heavy supporters of inbreeding, the Gaunts were rumoured to be direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, inheriting the ability to speak Parseltongue – Riddle had shown in their first year he could do this – and most likely, _Legilimency_.

Being his former classmate – and also her partner in some classes – she had come to realize some things about him. Blessed with mysterious dark brown eyes, thick black hair and handsome features, Tom Marvolo Riddle was the heartthrob among the female population, excluding two or three exceptions. Boys from every House also respected or feared him. As for the teachers, they had been completely "charmed" by him, minus Professor Dumbledore and Professor Tranquilflow. But Professor Slughorn had taken a special liking to him, which while not uncommon, it unnerved her because it showed how much of a good manipulator Riddle was. Flattery was one of his most polished weapons.

However, she would always feel troubled by his presence. There was a dark foreboding in it that she did not like, not one bit; his Aura was more pungent and distinctive when compared to other students. In fact, it reminded her of the same Aura of negativity and power thirst she had found in Gellert Grindelwald, causing her to nearly collapse on the main street of Sankt Blasien, Southern Black Forest in Germany shortly after the meeting with said Dark Wizard.

Following the exposure to Grindelwald's evil, her parents had a heated discussion with the Minister for Magic, which only got worse when one of that madman's followers attempted to abduct her during that year's Summer Holidays. She stopped going anywhere without an escort; it was the best way to protect her from Grindelwald's followers who were too much interested in her innate powers, which were, as the revolutionary himself had put, "a rarity".

Up until this day she continued to dream of unfathomable blue eyes that belonged to a smartly dressed blond man with a thin moustache and the most unusual wand she had ever seen. Lately, blue had turned into dark brown and instead of silvery blond curls, she saw jet-black hair…

_Calm down, me; focus on the matter at hand!_

Azure shook her head furiously and began eating her chocolate bar, purposely irritating the not-yet Prefect. Inwardly, the girl briefly entertained the thought of insufflating him, just to wipe that air of concealed superiority of his face. Too bad that he was too good to let himself get hexed.

"Five minutes won't make a difference," she said between bites, "unlike others, Professor Slughorn is a decent enough and thoughtful man. Don't you think that as well, Riddle?" An elegant eyebrow rose, dark brown eyes looking at her as if she was a specimen to dissect. Her eyes defiantly stared back. "What about your own duties?" Azure continued, still munching the sweet bar like she did not have a care in the world. "Like this week's Prefects-to-be Meeting or…whatever you candidates to Prefects do in your free time when you're not patrolling and finding faults on any member of the student body, much like those arse-licking twits you aspire to become."

She was about to finish her snack when the wrapper incinerated due to a curt wand gesture.

_Twit._ Azure cursed inwardly, wiping traces of chocolate with her handkerchief.

"That would be my business, not yours," Riddle answered, taking one step towards her. "A deduction of 20 points due to tardiness, 10 from the other Ravenclaw girl you were with."

_Just perfect! You had to be the stand-in for Parkinson._

Azure was inwardly fuming; today of all days, Patrick Parkinson was indisposed which meant fifth year Slytherin Prefect duties were passed to the candidate: Riddle.

"Punctuality first and foremost, Ashlane," he chided her. She detected disdain in his tone, especially after "punctuality". "You should also expect two hours of detention for disrespecting a senior student on the next Friday. Don't be late."

Azure mock-bowed. "Fine, I shall do as you command, My Lord," she replied acidly to the model student who, after a long stare, turned around and started walking down the corridor, soon disappearing from sight.

She kept glaring at the now empty space. Suddenly, her suitcase furiously made contact with the nearby wall, making it crack. Sighing, she let her wand fall into her hand like a concealed dagger or _kunai _– the effects of reading too much of those books on _ninja_ that her late great-uncle had brought home – and muttered "_Reparo_", not waiting to see the Charm taking effect. Attending Potions was more important. If she wasn't careful, she would be expelled this year and she would have to transfer to Beauxbatons.

She did not want to cause more problems for her family.

_As if a narcoleptic Aura Seer wasn't enough of a problem, s_he thought bitterly, recalling the unfortunate condition she had been diagnosed since age five and her innate abilities who had made her a "person of interest" in Grindelwald's eyes.

But that dark feeling never left her mind; unconsciously, she knew that Riddle would tread down the same easy and seductive path the infamous Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald had taken and…probably going further than the "Greater Good".

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	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my original characters.**

**Trigger warnings: bullying and past suicide attempts.**

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**Chapter Seven: The New Potions Partner**

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The unhappiness and hardly contained tears were as evident as the yellow and green liquid that had exploded in Myrtle's face, courtesy of her latest potion-making. Not daring to look at Professor Slughorn's disappointed face, she desperately tried to ignore the sound the snickers from the other students. Her number one tormentor was, as usual, whispering insults. Some girls were also gossiping over Myrtle's disastrous concoction.

"How could that small little thing explode like that?"

"Who can be that dumb to not know the difference between devil's root and monkshood?"

"She's such a disgrace for Hogwarts."

"A failure, that's what she is: a failure!"

_JUST STOP, PLEASE!_ Myrtle shut her eyes and blocked the voices with her arms, but in her mind the voices would never stop, which would lead her to the usual spiral of grief and depression that Azure – she had only recently started addressing the Slytherin girl by her preferred nickname, showing that Myrtle trusted her more than she had ever trusted anyone, save for Minnie of course – didn't know.

What would her friend say about thinking of throwing herself off the Astronomy Tower, the dangerous thoughts of self-harming, some of which Myrtle had decided to act upon them and as a result, Madam Burnett had spent months nursing her back to health, the thin marks on her wrists and arms forever a reminder?

_Why wasn't I born normal like my family!_ As if on purpose, a pair of haughty periwinkle blue eyes and a pale face framed by perfectly combed wavy hair flashed in her mind. Her "perfect sister" Holly Victoria. Myrtle was always mentioned in comparison to Holly. She had seen through all the polite smiles her family put on their faces. And she hated that they couldn't accept her. A witch in the family?

"_How blasphemous_," her grandparents had said.

Keane was the exception; after confiding in him she was attending Hogwarts, he had replied that he too was aware that magic existed but this had been kept a secret from their family. His employer Monsieur Delacour was a famous wizard who maintained a cordial relationship with non-magical people and some well-known supernatural creatures. He was also a teacher at _Beauxbatons Academy_, a magical school located in France.

In the letter, Keane had advised her to not try too hard and to have some fun at times; to study was important but health always came in first. Myrtle's eyes were teary after she read the whole letter, gently holding the monochromatic moving picture depicting her brother and his fiancée.

Myrtle's happiest time was when she was with Grandpa or with Keane. Her brother did not favour either of his sisters over but Myrtle liked to think he loved her more; it was Keane who had offered her the silver crucifix Myrtle always wore under her uniform and also the person who had offered to buy a new owl for Myrtle after her companion had died from poisoning in her second year. During that year's Christmas Holidays, she had remained holed up in the bedroom, crying all by herself while her sister was busy with the choir and piano lessons. But on Christmas Eve, Myrtle had hugged her brother with a strength she didn't know she possessed, inwardly cursing the day her Arithmancy Professor appeared in Beaufort. Keane had stayed with her until she stopped crying.

In the end, Myrtle was afraid of dying. To make things worse, suicide was very frowned upon in her family. Her grandparents firmly believed that witchcraft was "the Devil's work"; since she was a witch, Hell was the only choice for her Soul to go to after death.

_But Keane would be so sad…_

A scene of her childhood appeared on her mind: a broadly smiling Myrtle riding on her brother's back, her small hands pulling his messy fiery red hair. Holly was not there; this memory belonged to Myrtle and to her brother alone.

"I did not ask to be a witch! I HATE IT, I HATE IT ALL!" The words left her mouth before she could realize it. Tear-eyed, Myrtle saw Professor Slughorn with an unreadable expression, arms behind his back. The entire classroom had fallen into silence, except for the murmurs of the Potions Professor, eyebrows now slightly furrowed. After what felt like an eternity, the pudgy man placed one finger under his chin in contemplation.

"Perhaps this could work for Miss Orren."

The mistakenly pronounced surname was no news to Myrtle; Professor Slughorn only bothered to address correctly his best students, and during private occasions, he would call them by their first name. Those students were part of the "Slug Club". In that case, he would never get their names wrong. Professor Binns had this habit as well; the Ghost had called her "Warner" more times than she could count.

"Miss Fortescue, you will pair up with Mr McBraggen."

As if on cue, the pretty blonde girl with light blue eyes who used too much make-up for a class gracefully rose from her seat next to Myrtle's, going to join the sandy-haired – his name was actually McLaggen – who had a bored look on his half-sleepy face, but not before sending her previous partner one last disdainful sideways glance.

"As for you, I think I have the ideal partner…" Their Professor's eyes trailed to the opposite corner where Myrtle was, finding the girl from Slytherin who unsurprisingly was sleeping on the desk. Not even her partner was trying to wake her up.

Myrtle could only ask herself how on earth the girl managed to sleep through class and have stellar grades in Potions and Transfiguration.

"By Merlin's beard…Miss Ashlane!"

Professor Slughorn's reprimanding voice started to echo throughout the room, making the dark blue-haired girl instantly stand up straight. "Sir."

"From now on, you will pair up with Miss Orren…"

"Warren," Myrtle muttered, expecting him to not remember her proper name.

However, a couple of seconds later, Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. "Oh was it Miss Warren?" Myrtle gave him a tiny nod before casting her eyes down, hands on her lap as he continued, "As I was saying, Miss Ashlane, you will help Miss Warren to the best of your abilities, which I am sure this will not prove as much of a challenge as it appears to be."

Azure nodded and, as soundlessly as possible, she picked up her materials and the small pouch before sitting next to a still puffy-eyed Myrtle who had stopped crying, her sullen look replaced by an incredulous one. The Slytherin produced a handkerchief out of her cloak, which the other girl shyly accepted.

"Mr Riggs, on the other hand, will join Miss Ashlane's former partner, Mr Flint." From the corner of her eye, Myrtle saw Lance Higgs take his seat next to a corpulent boy with dark brown hair. "Now, shall we continue?"

And with that, the class resumed where it had stopped, Azure's advice and guidance proving to be far more worth than Myrtle's partners of the last two years.

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	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" or "Black Butler".**

**Trigger warnings: self-harming and suicide attempts (implied)**

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**Chapter Eight: The Importance of Changes**

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Some weeks after changing the third-years pairings, Horace decided it was time to give his students a new assignment: to choose a potion that they would have to recreate with the ingredients available on the school's grounds and the classroom - they were forbidden from using the pantry- and write a report on it. It was a challenge that would employ creativity, knowledge, and commitment, three qualities he favoured on every student of his "collection". With a quill at the ready, Horace slowly read the reports, halting when he came across the Ashlane -Warren work before continuing its appraisal.

"Truly astonishing!" He said out loud after reading the pair's assignment, writing a bold "O" on at the right top corner of the first of 10 pages of parchment; the text was clearly Miss Warren's – her calligraphy was the most elegant of her year – and the complex illustrations were the handiwork of the talented young Azurelia.

Pairing up Azurelia with Miss Warren was probably the best decision he had made in the last months.

Calmly sipping his tea, he recalled the newly-formed pair composed by the third years' best student and his former worst student doing an impeccable work in recreating the Girding Potion in 15 minutes less than the others. After the class had ended, both had helped to collect and to put back in their proper places the vials, bottles of herbs, poisons and the like. It was refreshing to see the pitiful-looking Miss Warren with a different expression.

The following weeks, it was not uncommon for Horace to see Miss Warren with a light green book in her hands called _The Hobbit_ – his colleagues and some students had praised the book's scenarios and the author's perspective of magic and magical races, which ultimately made him buy and read said book after a well-spent afternoon on Bardsley Island – and in the company of her new Potions partner.

Someone who also reminded him of a young lady he had met many years ago and who had the strange ability to dispel one's inner loneliness just by standing close to that person.

_"__When you feel miserable, you want to make others feel the same as them…if that is true, then the opposite should work, Sluggy!"_

Horace sighed nostalgically as he recalled his late friend's words from when he was suffering from a broken heart. Placing back the quill on its usual place, he looked at a framed moving picture of himself and her when he was twenty-three years old and holding proudly the Potions Master certificate in his hands. She was smiling brightly before flinging her arms at him and surprisingly managing to lift him from the ground, despite her age. She had explained to him that it was because of "Mother's teachings".

More happy memories started appearing on his mind: Master Arsenius Prince awarding him his Potions Master certificate, a ceremony attended by Horace's friend and her husband; the trio celebrating it in Cambridgeshire with a tea party where they had eaten lots of crystallized fruit, pineapple being his favourite of course. Her husband was fond of strawberries while she preferred oranges because they reminded her of her family mansion's orchards.

He had also received from them a curious gift that immediately appealed to him for its magical properties.

_"__The sand on it runs accordingly to the flow of the conversation,"_ her husband had explained, tapping lightly the glass of the object whose sand was running quicker than in a common hourglass. Allegedly, the hourglass had been found in an old temple dedicated to Hecate before ending up in an antique bazaar located in Wizarding Athens. _"If the topic is interesting, it will run slowly…to the point, it seems to freeze."_

_"__We knew it would be perfect for you!"_ And she had smiled a smile that made her look younger than her actual age, the once thick and golden curls now replaced by wispy strands of blonde-white hair. _"Emerald green and silver are your House's colours, right? My brother's favourite colour was also green. But I doubt he would go to your House."_

He chuckled in agreement. Her brother Edward did _not_ have the profile of a Slytherin. He was more a Gryffindor while his sister was a Hufflepuff but with some Gryffindor-like traits. Her husband and her brother-in-law, however, was a different story. To be frank, they sometimes reminded him of Tom.

But she was a special collectable on his castle of memories. It hadn't mattered that she did not have magic; she was "magical in her own way", as he had once admitted to Albus. To his surprise, the Transfigurations Master had replied that he also had someone like that in his life before "he" – Grindelwald – came.

Perhaps that's why he had befriended her; despite being the child of a Pure-blood couple, Horace did not think of Muggle-borns as inferior to other wizards and witches. In his youth, he had many met great men and women in his life, some of them possessing magic, Muggle parents or no magic at all.

She was a prime example. Like Polaris, the star who guided those who had lost their way, she had been there for him.

When he was told of her husband's passing, he had requested Headmaster Black a temporary absence from school. Horace had never asked a formal absence from school until that day.

The funeral had been on 14th December of 1913 and attended by family members and close friends like the Jones and himself. Lizzy had fallen on her knees and cried as the undertaker calmly proceeded with the burial, her husband's body's hands across his chest like custom.

_"__Many years ago, I was crying because I thought they were all dead...and that I would never see them again: Aunt Rachel, Uncle Vincent, Ciel, Cael. People that I love with all of my heart. Now…I only have my Aster and Cael. Cael...is somewhere. I know he will return. I trust him and the person who is with him."_

More than two decades later, he would find himself and Myrtilus standing in front of her grave. Head bowed down, he had raised his wand, conjuring a wreath of white lilies.

During that afternoon, the two friends had drunk a lot, more than what Horace was used to. He had woken up the next day with an awful hangover, spending hours drinking Earl Grey tea and eating crystallized pineapple as medicine.

How he missed her...

_"__Loneliness eats away our own Souls, and hope vanishes with it. The young wizards and witches you want to guide in their life will sometimes feel that way,"_ she had said one afternoon before looking into his eyes, a bright smile forming on her lips as she placed her hand on top of his. _"And as an adult and as a teacher, it is your responsibility to ensure their well-being, even if their blood is what your family considers to be 'sullied'. Blood or status doesn't matter when you are protecting people."_

If she was alive, he was sure she would pull his ear for not doing nothing but watching the loneliness and self-hatred in Miss Warren's bespectacled eyes grow every time she was in his class. Isolated from the other students, including those from her own House...

He felt ashamed for not addressing the matter earlier. Miss Warren's previous partners – not only in his class but also others – had endangered her life more than once, which made her a regular student to the Hospital Wing. But outside of the class, the risk of suffering abuse was much higher.

It had taken more than two years for someone to step forward and consequently reduce Miss Warren's visits to Madam Delberta Burnett who would treat the young girl's self-inflicted wounds. There were also some isolated incidents that had later proved to be suicide attempts, the scars on her wrists and arms being hidden by long clothing, which explained why Horace never had seen her with rolled-up sleeves like everyone else, even when the temperatures rose quite a bit.

And, of course, that said someone would be one of his "collection". Azurelia was without a doubt her year and the following one's best Potions student since out all of his favoured students, Tom was his shining star. The top student of his year, Tom was eager to learn and an intelligent young man. He excelled in every subject.

Azurelia was different; her innate talent with Potions could rival Tom's but while she could recognize and tell the ingredients of every concoction known to man due to her eidetic memory, the Slytherin's academic results were not quite satisfactory.

For instance, in her first year, Flying had been a total disaster because she had frequently fallen asleep on her broom, sometimes in mid-air, making it impossible for her to belong to her House's Quidditch team.

By Merlin's beard, she should be a fourth-year student like Tom but instead...

_"__I do not mind repeating the year, Sir. This is an opportunity for me to improve as a witch."_

Personality-wise, she was not as cunning or unfriendly as the usual Slytherin and was respected by the younger students of other Houses, especially because she defended Muggle-borns – sometimes in a very hostile way, enhancing enmity between her and her Housemates. But things instantly turned sour when she and Tom were in the same space or when Tom was brought up as the subject of a conversation.

Her eyes became cold and hateful.

As a matter of fact, she would never appear in Horace's "parties", which he suspected half of the reason was Azurelia wanting to avoid Tom, who she loathed more than anything – Horace simply could not understand the meaning behind the hostility that was apparently reciprocated, albeit in a more subtle way on Tom's part –, and the other half was to prevent crises of narcolepsy. An untreatable medical condition that provoked sudden shutdowns of the entire body, it gave the patient the appearance of being asleep…

Realizing he was digressing in his thoughts, Horace returned to his task, fully concentrated on the papers he would deliver to his class on Monday. It was nearly dawn when he finished it, an empty teacup placed on his bedside table. Leaning comfortably against the pillow, Horace began dreaming of his late mother and the pineapple pie she baked for him, remembering his dear friend trying to do one but failing miserably.

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Across the Atlantic, in a bar located in New York, a vampire and her best friend were sitting in a table. While she was sipping a glass of her favourite Chardonnay, her best friend drank from a glass of bourbon, a habit he had picked up from his estranged older brother. He was holding a drawing of the bust of a beautiful young woman, her neck adorned by a locket that she had offered him as a proof of love.

A longing look entered his eyes. She put her hand on the top of his reassuringly, covering the lapis-lazuli ring on his middle finger.

The male vampire returned the smile and finished the rest of his drink before leaving the bar, his fellow supernatural creature next to him as they walked on the sidewalk.

After they parted their ways, she returned to the apartment she shared with her husband and, yawning, she flopped herself onto the bed and closed her eyes.

Being undead was no walk in the park...but it had its perks.

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**Please, review!**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: First of all, I would like to thank my faithful reader Micchi Koutarou for his comments. His support is what drives me to continue updating this story. Us fanfiction writers feel appreciated and valued when readers show how they appreciate our work. Thank you, Micchi! **

**Even the smallest review/comment is enough. So, I ask you to read and review, please. I would love to hear your opinions about this. **

**As of this chapter, we begin to enter a "crossover phase" with supernatural characters from two different series which I am quite fond of: The Vampire Diaries and Vampire Knight. Some characters will make a cameo but others will interact with the "Shades"' characters. Their background is partially made-up, especially Lexi's. I hope you enjoy delving a bit in the supernatural world.**

**One more last thing before we start: I do not own "Harry Potter", "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them", "Vampire Knight" and "The Vampire Diaries". **

**Chapter Nine: Alexia Branson, the "Good Vampire"**

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Between the 15th and the 16th July 1942, the Delacour Mansion was bustling with energy. The Delacours' only daughter Céleste was marrying Keane Warren. Naturally, the event received human and supernatural guests, including the Werewolf clan Lockwood, Lord Elijah Mikaelson, some Pureblood and Noble Vampires...and Ghosts.

The wedding reception had gone the way it was supposed to be; polite smiles, good food, beautiful clothes – Muggle attire was optional – and an enormous list of guests. Witches would saunter the place in their best robes for the occasion while the Vampires preferred the formal "_Non-magiques"_ – French term for Muggles – dresses and tuxedos.

Myrtle and Holly had also dressed for the occasion: her twin was clad in a red dress that reached her knees, contrasting with Myrtle's cream dress that reached below the knee. Finally, Keane's crucifix was proudly displayed on her attire's neckline. Holly was wearing a gold necklace with St. Patrick's effigy. Their hair was devoid of bangs, some of the raven locks tied on their back and held securely by a hairpin. If hers was butterfly-shaped, Holly's looked like a rose, her favourite flower.

The only people that were not in ceremonial robes were the Aurors and the trusted bodyguards/assassins of the Japanese vampires; they were on duty, which meant wearing a regular black raincoat, white blouse and black pants for the Aurors or a simple black tux in the case of the bodyguards/assassins. Fortunately, nothing bad had happened because the event was being attended by an Original Vampire and the Japanese Vampires; no wizard or witch dared to approach a Mikaelson or one of the Vampire clans without knowing the consequences.

And, thank God that no incidents with unsuspecting humans had happened; all the Vampire guests possessed remarkable self-control over their hunger…

Well, it was to be expected; they had been sipping either human blood infused with lavender tea or a pale pink liquid that originated from the automatic dissolution of something called "blood tablets". These "tablets" were what Pure-blood and Noble vampires – Kuran, Shōtō, Aidō, Sōen and Kain – had recently begun to use instead of feeding on human blood.

By nightfall, Myrtle was walking the gardens with Azure, pausing when they saw the future King and Queen of the Night Clan, which meant the entire Vampire race.

Physically, they appeared to be in their late teens, despite they were in fact, much older and powerful than the Mikaelsons. Also, since they were born vampires unlike the former Viking family who had been turned into vampires by magic, Japanese vampires possessed some variation of Elemental Magic. Pure-bloods did not have a drop of human blood in their line, unlike the Noble Vampires, hence why their lifespan was unnaturally long.

Overall, the supernatural community respected greatly the Kurans and their pacifist way of thinking, something that made Myrtle feel reassured. In different circumstances, humankind would have to deal with a different kind of war.

_The Revolution and Hitler would be the least of this Earth's problems._

"Lady Jūri and Lord Haruka Kuran," Azure whispered to Myrtle before politely curtseying and nudging the petite girl to do the same when the couple passed by them. After a nod and a gentle smile, the pair continued their stroll with fingers enlaced. They were the epitome of a young couple in love. "I saw them when I was little. They haven't changed a bit."

"They're beautiful…" Myrtle mused aloud.

The Kuran siblings indeed possessed an ethereal beauty that surpassed Lord Mikaelson. Lady Jūri had warm and very long dark brown hair that fell before her eyes, albeit a bit messy and curly. Her eyes were warm and chocolate-brown. Lord Haruka's eyes reminded Myrtle of garnet stones. His hair was short and dark brown with bangs covering most of his eyes.

"They are, aren't they?" A female voice said from behind them, making the girls turn around to see Céleste's bridesmaid. She had hazel-green eyes and curly blond hair, a stray lock falling on the left side of her shoulder. Her hand was holding a glass of a pinkish liquid. She was also wearing a lapis lazuli necklace and a burgundy dress with a mesh overlay on a luminous matching satin lining and whose bodice enhanced her curves perfectly. Myrtle could still see the lapis lazuli earrings that Lexi used in order to walk normally in the sun. Like Azure, she had gloves, only that hers were white opera length gloves.

"Hi, I am Lexi Branson. My full name is Alexia but don't call me that. I am eternally 21. Nice to meet you!" She greeted with a warm smile.

The joke hadn't been lost on Myrtle and Azure; they began to laugh, Lexi joining them. After some quick self-introductions, Lexi began to explain that she had been turned in the sixteenth century. Her best friend – Stefan – was a vampire who had been "off the rails" because of his "Ripper side", a binge eater vampire with the habit of tearing the victim's heads off due to a vicious feeding, for some time until she knocked some good sense on him.

"It was the year of 1603, 20th March. The guy who turned me was a right bastard who believed he could get a pretty girl to do anything he wanted just because he had made her like him, which obviously meant he was entitled to be my 'owner'… – her eyes had darkened at this momentarily – …but after I was force-fed some human blood, I kicked him with my new supernatural strength, fled and found a cave."

Lexi then told them she had spent the first weeks feeding on small animals, which was not substantial for a newborn vampire. One day, she chose to embrace her new vampire nature. "I am not proud of that but at that time it was the only way to make the thirst go away. It also meant that instead of taking some drops, I would drink the person dry," she bit her lip. "How was I supposed to know that my would-be first human kill was a werewolf whose kind does not usually have a quarrel with vampires..."

"The not innate lycanthropy," Azure said matter-of-factly, folding her arms over her rose-patterned light green bolero jacket that went very well with the gown of the same colour and pattern. She was secretly wearing flat shoes with socks as the length of the dress easily concealed her feet. Her previously messy dark blue hair was in a half-up, half-down style. "People who are bitten by a werewolf, turning into werewolves every full-moon, but nevertheless can do magic because they have a wizard or a witch as a parent."

"Certain people at the Ministry call them 'Half-breeds' and support their segregation like Hitler's Nazi forces did before sending Jews to concentration camps," Myrtle added, shaking her head sadly. "It's a cruel world to live in."

"Prejudice runs in human nature," Lexi commented with a growl, her gloved hand tightening the hold on her glass briefly. "But that night, I did not see that. The human who I thought to be the perfect victim paralyzed me before I even got close. I knew he or she was a practitioner of witchcraft. In those times, it was common for my generation growing up while hearing the stories about witches and warlocks. We called them 'Devil worshippers'…through sacrifices, they could enhance their dark powers or summon creatures." She bit her lip. "I was so afraid that I asked the Lord to let me die quickly and started saying the prayers, but the final strike never happened. Instead, the stranger grabbed me by the ear and furiously told me in a low voice: 'What kind of idiot are you?'"

"Didn't you say those words to me back in 1864?" A new male voice said in an amused tone, cutting into the conversation. "Sorry for interrupting your wonderful storytelling, Lexi."

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**Now, can you guess who spoke?**

**Once again, read and comment, if you please!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" and "The Vampire Diaries".**

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**Chapter Ten: Stefan Salvatore, the Reformed "Ripper of Monterey"**

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The first thing Myrtle noticed was the guilt in his forest-green eyes. The second most noticeable thing was the enchanted lapis-lazuli ring that had an "S" carved in sterling silver.

"Stefan!" Lexi eyed the very handsome newcomer with a mock-accusing look as he approached the trio. "You didn't tell me you were coming to the wedding, you bloody wanker!" She punched him playfully on the shoulder, to which he winced in mock-pain. "Where is your pain-in-the-ass older brother?"

"He is…well," the handsome vampire replied stiffly, eyes flashing with pain. "I believe he is still in New Orleans with his new girlfriend. You know her, she is the brunette with green eyes. Charlotte."

"Witch, No-Maj or vampire?" Azure asked suddenly, much to the vampire's befuddlement. "Sorry for not introducing ourselves, I am Azure. Well, Azurelia, but I don't like being called that and I'm here as a stand-in- to my parents who are busy hunting down Grindelwald's followers and _Inferi_ in China." She grinned. "I came on the part of the bride."

"My name is Myrtle," the younger girl introduced herself, a small smile on her face. "Keane Warren is my brother."

"Nice to meet you. I am Stefan Salvatore," he said, offering them a friendly grin. "Some minutes ago, I saw someone who looked just like Miss Myrtle but without glasses. Sister?"

"Twin," Myrtle corrected. "And you are her type."

"I must be careful in that case," he said with a chuckle before giving them a searching look, making Myrtle wonder if Vampires could differentiate between normal humans and wizards.

"By the way, if you are trying to figure out why two human girls know that the ring you're wearing is of the magical kind, the answer is simple: we are witches, the kind that carries a wand," Azure chimed in, producing her wand and pointing it at his necktie: the colour changed from plain dark grey to a mixture of the colours that made up the United States' flag. "So?"

Stefan blinked constantly at his new tie while Lexi stifled several laughs. Azure quickly undid the spell. "The third one. Albeit he turned her first," he said, his posture more relaxed as he asked curiously, "Are you two witches like your parents?"

"I am the only witch in my family," Myrtle clarified. "In our world, I am known as a Muggle-born, meaning that my parents are Muggles, non-magical people. The American term for it is No-Majs?" She turned to Lexi who nodded at her. "We attend Hogwarts."

"Céleste and her parents both went to Beauxbatons. It welcomes students from Belgium, Holland, Luxembourg, Italy, Spain, France and Portugal," Lexi added. "Hogwarts founded in Scotland one thousand years ago by two wizards and two witches. In North America, we have Ilvermony which is located in Massachusetts." She turned to Stefan. "Didn't I tell you about my other friend who was a graduate from Ilvermony?"

"You mean the guy who used his wand to cast some funny spell that made my head inflate like a balloon?" The handsome vampire said testily. "He was a former…Puk-something."

"Pukwudgie," the beautiful vampire corrected with a laugh. "It's one of the Houses. Myrtle and Azure are third-years. You are in Slytherin, right?" She half-asked to Azure who shrugged. "And you Myrtle are…"

"Ravenclaw," the petite finished, a proud look adorning her face. "The House of the very smart people."

Azure let out a derisive chuckle. "Not always. Your Housemate Hornby is the stereotypical pretty but dumb blonde. I mean no offence to the lovely blonde lady." She put her arms up in a defensive gesture as an amused Lexi shrugged, obviously not the least angry. Azure then casually draped one of her arms around Myrtle's shoulders who blushed at the sudden gesture. "But if there is someone smart, it's Twin-tails here! She is one of the best students of our year. Better than the Pure-blood twits."

The colour of Myrtle's face now positively resembled a tomato's.

"Slytherin and Ravenclaw?" Stefan chuckled good-naturedly. "Very original names."

"Blame it on our dear Founders," Azure supplied with a dramatic sigh. "Each House is named after their surnames: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. If you find the names funny, wait until you hear the motto."

Stefan's eyebrows rose to his forehead. "There's a motto?"

"_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus,_" Myrtle recited before giving Azure a dry look that made the Slytherin swiftly remove the offending limb from her shoulder.

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon?" His voice was a mix of amusement and incredulity. "How did they come up with that? I mean, a dragon, an honest to God dragon?"

"It was the Middle Ages; dragons, quests and knights were a typical theme in literature, so…perhaps there was a quest?" Lexi offered. "I suppose that judging by the Founders' personalities that in a way influenced their choice of traits for future students, the bravest of them decided to slay a dragon to save a damsel in distress?"

"Whatever it was, the books failed to record," Myrtle said as Azure shrugged.

"Figures."

"I bet that Slytherin guy must have opposed to it in the first place, with a name like that," Stefan chimed in, taking a sip of his bourbon. "Slytherin…reminds me of a snake, always slithering around places."

"Correct. Salazar Slytherin, the Founder of Slytherin House, where the cunning, ambitious and resourceful may prosper. The emblem is a snake and the colours are emerald and silver," Azure said wryly before clicking her tongue. "Nowadays, it is just a bunch of bullies and prejudicial twits who mistreat their fellow students because they are not Pure-bloods or poor."

"Present company not included," Myrtle added with a knowing sideways-glance that her friend returned with a cheeky smile. Despite being from an old family, Azure despised the magical society's blood prejudice, albeit she usually made her point across by causing bodily harm and getting detention in the process. "Azure's targets are usually those Pure-bloods."

"Trust me; they had it all coming," Azure replied with a hint of viciousness in her voice. "Bigotry is damaging our society. If I can do something about it, it's worth the trouble, Myrtle."

"Cunning, ambitious and resourceful…oh God, there is an entire House full of Damons in Scotland," Lexi mock-exasperated before sending a warning glance at Stefan. "You did not hear this from me."

"My lips are sealed," he told her, the corners of his lips twitching briefly. "But what are exactly Pure-bloods?"

"Wizards and witches born into very old magical families," Lexi replied easily. "When a wizard or witch marries a Muggle, their child is called a Half-blood. The term Half-bloods also includes those born from a Pure-blood and a Half-blood wizard or witch. However, sometimes, wizarding couples produce children who do not possess magic. Their name is Wizard-borns and they are generally cast away from society."

"We wizards do love our labels," her friend intervened with a self-deprecating smile. "Most Pure-bloods believe the non-magical world to be nothing more than a land of savages." She let out a snort. "They don't see how savages themselves can be, especially when the target is a wizard or witch with so-called 'dirty blood'."

_Yes and the worst thing is when they pretend we don't exist, _Myrtle privately agreed, a grim look passing her visage as memories of her first year flashed through her head.

* * *

**Please Review!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" and "The Vampire Diaries".**

**Trigger warnings: bullying and self-harm.**

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**Chapter Eleven: Reflections of an Archaic Society**

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Until now, her magical life could be divided into two very different phases: before Azure and after Azure. Before Azure, Myrtle was just another girl in the crowd of students wearing the same robes but different ties and crests on their gymslip or vest-coat. At night, she found herself looking at her hands or at other parts of her body and the tingling or the itching sensation in her skin made her recalled her torment at the hands of Hornby's posse.

Madam Burnett's healing treatments could only take away the pain but the memory of it was indelible. She would find the nearest sharp object and plunge it in her skin while whispering to the Lord to wake her up because if this was a dream, she wanted no part of it. She wanted her brother to tuck her in bed, her parents to hold her and encourage her talents and her younger sister to genuinely call her "Sis" instead of a flat "Myrtle". Wishes were all she had.

She had been brought to a world that didn't make her feel welcomed and her number of friends amounted to just one and one or two acquaintances inside of her House like Maura Bones. She hated the archaic society she had been forced to enter, a society where blood and a family's legacy was what mattered.

_"A society that you do not fit in, Moaning Myrtle_," Hornby had cruelly whispered before hitting her with a hex.

But, one day, she met a strange girl from her school's most hated House and instead of isolation, she began to seek out the Slytherin's companionship. Soon she realized Azure was a bit like Minnie but had a violent streak that the older Gryffindor would immediately disapprove. Minnie was a stickler for rules and Azure more than often bent them because she fought for "what is right" and because she wanted to make a "change".

And now, she had befriended beings who, once upon a time, would make her cower in fear because of the stories she had heard and read about!

_How things can change in just a few months' time_, Myrtle smiled, looking at the two vampires who were reminiscing about embarrassing moments – mostly Stefan's –, to which Stefan would immediately protest before they began laughing, both witches included. _Right, Grandpa?_

"Pure, half, dirty blood," Stefan counted with his fingers idly before letting out a snort. "That does not make any sense. Blood is blood."

"Tell that to the Pure-blood twits in charge of our very much esteemed archaic society," Azure replied sarcastically. "Magical society thinks of itself as superior, but we are nothing if not puny, weak creatures who cannot accept difference until it hits us in the face."

Lexi made an agreeing sound before sipping her beverage. "It's one of the reasons I don't like visiting my home country; the Ministry is not very fond of 'bloodsuckers'. With the increasing of the vampire population because of bored Purebloods and rogue vampires, people will grow scared. And as my friend once told me, when No-Maj_s_ are scared, they attack. Wizards and witches will react the same way."

"Those Pure-bloods sound like a bunch of douchebags," Stefan added, utter dislike seeping from his words. "Casting away their children because they lack magic?"

Azure sighed sadly. "For some families, the shame of having a 'Squib', the derogatory term for Wizard-born, is as bad as having a child out of wedlock. Traditional clans have long supported inbreeding – marrying cousins with cousins – in order to keep the blood pure, which leads to the appearance of many Wizard-borns, the counterpart to wizards and witches born in ordinary families."

"The Muggle-borns, correct?" Stefan asked.

Lexi nodded. "Slytherin is the most selective of the Houses; usually, Pure-bloods are placed there."

"Guilty," Azure deadpanned, raising her hand. "Although that as long as I am concerned, my Housemates hate me because I am a 'Blood-traitor spawn'. The funny thing is that Blood-traitors – wizards and witches who interact with and marry Muggles or people of lesser blood status – always end up in other Houses but not me. I am a snake born in a family of badgers. On my father's side, to be more precise. My Mother and her family attended Beauxbatons."

Myrtle saw him mouth "badgers?" to his friend who smiled innocently before supplying, "She's talking about Hufflepuff; their emblem is a badger and the colours are yellow and black. As for Beauxbatons, they have three levels of learning: primary level, middle level and upper level. Interestingly, they had Houses before the Headmaster abolished them during the French Revolution. Each House was also associated with a colour instead of Hogwarts who has two: purple for Papillionlisse, blue for OmbreLune and green for Bellefeuille. Céleste once told me that her granduncles were not pleased with this change and made a petition to bring back the Houses. Both were French nobles and escaped the Terror." A small conspiratorial smile appeared on her face and she leaned her head forward as she whispered, "Her Grandfather's brother Marc was OmbreLune and his wife Mauviette was Papillionlisse."

Myrtle blinked at the revelation. Wizards and witches' lifespan was superior to a regular human but she ignored exactly how much old they could be; in her world, people died before the seventy years – Grandpa Morgan had passed away at 75, which was something of a record among his family and friends who had died after reaching 60 – but from what Lexi was saying, Céleste's granduncles would have to be 300 years old!

Stefan's eyebrows shot up to his forehead as he echoed her non-verbal disbelief, "Her Granduncles?"

"Not just Vampires can live beyond a regular human's age, Mr Salvatore," Azure told him smugly. "In our world, magic retards ageing. That's why many of these guests look middle-aged despite the fact they are already hundreds of years old. Perhaps the young-looking witches you are acquainted with are actually old enough to be Myrtle's grandmothers." She paused before a mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Does your eternally twenty-four-year-old brother knows he has been sleeping with old hags?"

Myrtle chortled at the last part and, bemused, watch Stefan splutter on his drink.

"You're joking!"

"O ye of little faith…" Lexi smirked at him. "It's a whole new world that we live in, Stef. Make an effort in not acting surprised at all times, would you?"

"Duly noted," the vampire said sarcastically to her. "What about the other Houses? Gryffindors are…"

"…Where dwell the brave at heart," Lexi recited before rolling her eyes. "Their traits – bravery, daring and chivalry - are those of a stereotypical knight. The colours are scarlet and gold and their emblem is a lion."

Azure chuckled and quickly drew her wand. A floating tetrahedron appeared. "Very fitting for a House connected to the element Fire."

Myrtle's lips twitched upwards as she recalled her geometry lessons taught by Mrs Finley: platonic solids could be associated with one of the four elements and the aether/cosmos. The tetrahedron symbolized fire.

Lexi nodded and said, "If Gryffindor is Fire, Slytherin would be connected with Water."

"That may explain why they are always at odds; fire and water cancel each other," Myrtle added musingly, her index finger under her chin. "There was a heated divergence of opinions between Slytherin and Gryffindor; the former seriously disapproved of Muggle-borns learning magic, while Godric Gryffindor, his once upon a time best friend, thought otherwise."

The floating solid morphed into the shape of an icosahedron, the representation of water. Stefan curiously poked the glowing object, the contours becoming squishy for a moment. "Opposites indeed."

"Which is why Gryffindor is known as the second most inclusive House. Hufflepuff is the House of the just, the loyal and the patient," Lexi interjected. "Their Founder was Helga Hufflepuff and their aptitude for Herbology enhances the connection to the element Earth." The floating shape became a cube. "Western magic was heavily inspired by Elemental Magic before it was divided in Light and Dark. The Houses are connected to each one of the four elements…"

"And these four elements are in turn symbolized by the 'platonic solids', which are a way of explaining the several phases of matter," Azure completed with a grin.

"Geometry: my least favourite subject until Damon lectured me day and night. The next week, it was exam day; I got the second-best grade of the class. That Daniel Forbes was simply impossible to beat," Stefan recalled with a chuckle. "So, that leaves Ravenclaw with the last of the 'classical' four elements, as the fifth element – aether – is connected to all four."

"Well deduced!" Azure grinned and with a flick of her wand, the cube turned into an octahedron. "Ravenclaw, the House that prizes wit, wisdom and learning. Its colours are blue and bronze. Founded by the brilliant Helena Ravenclaw, who chose an eagle as the emblem because of their connection to the element Air. Perfect for intellectuals." Mismatched thoughtful-looking eyes locked with Stefan's forest green ones. "Interested?"

"No!" He laughed. "I like books, but we Salvatores were born in Virginia, a state of the North; daring is our second name. Also, we have Italian ancestry; chivalry is part of our education. So was Latin….but hypothetically speaking, I would like to go to Gryffindor. My brother would fit in Slytherin; he has the right attitude."

Lexi instantly gave him a mock-glare. "Hey, what about Hufflepuff, where loyalty, hard work and fairness abound? You could belong there as well!"

"Oh, I believe that would be perfect for you, Miss Branson," he told her smoothly, slightly bowing before her and gently kissing her knuckles. "You're better at doing hard work than me."

"Stefan…" Lexi started to say in a threatening tone despite she could not help the bemused smile at his antics. "Fine, there's no need to put on your 'Salvatore' charm that won you many broken hearts."

"And how many were they again?" Azure asked wryly, folding her arms across her chest.

Stefan gave them a sheepish grin before replying, "Well...a lot? I lost count when I reached the fourties."

Myrtle did not doubt the truthfulness of that statement; Stefan Daniel Salvatore was _gorgeous_.

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** Please, review!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "The Vampire Diaries" and "Fantastic Beasts".**

**A/N: So in this chapter, we learn a bit more about Alexandra Moody, the witch who saved Lexi from herself.**

**Trigger warnings: torture (implied)**

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**Chapter Twelve: The Other World**

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Lexi sipped her drink innocuously and looked at her grinning friend. "You are too good-looking for your own good, Salvatore."

"I believe that would be Damon's department," he retorted with a shrug. "Even before we turned into vampires, he was the most sought out bachelor of Mystic Falls until 'Miss Pierce' arrived at our quaint little town in 1864. We later learned that she had used the Atlanta Campfires as a cover to pose as an orphaned girl who lost her parents in the fires."

"Manipulative and beautiful," Azure commented with a snort. "A very bad combination whose end result was even worse for the poor men who fell in love with her."

"Follies of youth," Stefan mused. "I learnt my lesson. Appearances _are _deceiving."

"Let's not talk about your ex-girlfriend anymore and return to my story which you so rudely interrupted," the blonde declared firmly. "So, where was I...ah!" She cleared her throat. "When she was holding me, I caught a whiff of her scent. She was a werewolf. Imagine my surprise; a werewolf who could do magic. She dragged me all the way back to her cottage and tied me up with magic so I couldn't escape and probably go on a killing spree. During the time I was there, she told me about Hogwarts..." She sighed. "Her siblings had gone to Slytherin, she was a Hufflepuff...but her family had considered her as a disappointment – because she was a 'Half-breed', meaning a werewolf who had been bitten as a child – and, consequently, she renamed herself."

"Now where did I hear that…? Oh right, the Blacks; being a 'disappointment' earns you being blasted off the family tree tapestry," Azure said dryly. "Like my great-grandaunt Corona who married a 'Blood-traitor'. The same happened when our recent graduate Septimus Weasley married Cedrella Black. He was a Gryffindor and she was a Slytherin. Blacks have always been Slytherins…except for Corona; she was a Ravenclaw. Well, it happens."

"What do you mean by 'blasted off'?" Stefan asked curiously, looking at Azure and Lexi for answers.

"Automatic disinheriting," Lexi replied. "Whether she was a Black or not, I cannot confirm. She just went by 'Alexandra' and, as the name indicated, she came to people's aid. Initially, I would just insult her, reverting to my 'bratty child' personality that the rest of the village knew me better by. Due to her constant mood swings, I started calling her 'moody'. She could be all sweet to me or grumpy. She would either ignore me or admonish me like I was a little girl, which drove me crazy."

"You never told me that," Stefan pointed out with an amused smile. "The 'good, well-behaved' vampire Alexia Branson had a rebellious phase?"

"Cut me some slack, Stefan. I was a new-born," Lexi rebuked to her friend half-heartedly. "The first weeks are the worse; you wear your emotions on your sleeve, you do reckless things…I was on the verge of shutting down my human side."

Stefan's eyes softened. "I am glad you didn't. I would be totally lost without your guidance, Lexi."

"And do you know why I could not do it? Because of Alexandra," she replied nostalgically. "I had lost everything: my house, my life…my little brother who was killed by the bastard who turned me. He had compelled me to go quietly…and Brian tried to stop him but the bastard grabbed his neck and threw him to the wall of our house which was already in flames. He died instantly of a broken neck," she told them, eyes prickling with tears. "He was about to become ten on the next week." Azure gave her a handkerchief and Lexi accepted it with a smile. "Thank you. And then…Alexandra walked into my life."

"What was she like?" Stefan asked.

Lexi sighed fondly. "She was like a mother to me. I remained with her for sixteen years. I saw her getting married, I saw her four children grow…and I was there with them and their children in her last moments. Her last words to me were: 'Alexia Branson, just because you're different from others, you should not act like a monster...like you don't care,'" she recalled, wiping a lone tear with her handkerchief. "She passed away at 79 years of age surrounded by those she loved."

Stefan placed a comforting hand on the blonde's shoulder. "She was right. You helped me, a Ripper, to adapt to my new lifestyle. I stopped being an insensitive douche because you were there, Lexi."

"Alexandra Moody, what a great woman!" Lexi said in a more upbeat tone of voice. "They still consider me as part of the family, always inviting me for the Holidays or sometimes to a training session with their co-workers. Their youngest – Alastor – is very eager. Before any session, he repeats 'Constant Vigilance' like some mantra. He has always lost to me, though. Now Alexander…he was hard to defeat. Scratch that, he beat me twice."

Stefan whistled. "Someone beat you, the more-than-three-hundred years-old Alexia Branson?"

"I trained them well," the blonde vampire retorted with a smirk before taking a sip of the dissolved blood tablet. "But Leah…do not mess with her. The 'Prewett' temper is famous even in our world."

"Must be the red hair," Azure added with a wry smile. "My Grandmother Vera used to say that girls with red hair have a short-temper. From what we have seen until now..."

Myrtle hummed in agreement, recalling Elaine Weasley giving Potter and Black a very loud earful some weeks ago because of their last prank. It was also a known fact that her bad temper had caused things to explode a lot of times.

"Come to think of it, Alexandra was also red-haired. And her eyes reminded me of moss," Lexi recalled fondly. "Her wolf form even had red fur. Well, technically, I would call it 'burgundy'. It strongly resembled the colour of that red wine she drank every night before going to bed. And one day, I made the mistake of spilling it on the table. If there was something that I learnt about Alexandra was to never mess between her and her wine."

Myrtle imagined a woman with red hair and green eyes wearing clothes from three centuries ago ready to beat the "crap out of someone", as Grandpa had said to her and Keane when he was telling them about his "instructor/tutor from Hell", Gilberta Mirch.

"I met a Prewett in Chicago," Stefan chimed in. "He punched Damon because he was putting the moves on his girlfriend who bore a strong resemblance to Katherine." Azure automatically slapped her head at said vampire's idiotic actions. "Sometimes, he can be such a..."

"A douchebag who needs to stop living in the past," the other vampire finished duly before flashing them a beaming smile. "Seize the moment and put behind your old demons'." She winked at Stefan. "Therefore, I won't give up until you, Salvatore brothers, make up."

Stefan smiled wryly. "I wish I had that kind of faith. My own brother promised me an eternity of misery because we fell in love with the same woman and I let her die. After her 'death', we split up until one of Lexi's witch friends told me she was in Rio de Janeiro drinking caipirinhas. I travelled there in 1928 and there she was, eternally young and beautiful…" He shook his head with disapproval. "…with an older-looking and very rich boyfriend. After I confronted her and nearly got killed, I went back to New York. When I told Damon about it, he spent the night drinking bourbon until he passed out. The next day, he was with another girl. Told me that he had killed and turned the other by accident. Since then, I've been trying to make up amends with him…but he is stubborn."

Azure scoffed. "Frankly, I would love to hex Pierce or Petrova or whatever name she is going by for being a, and excuse me for quoting you, Lexi." The vampire waved a dismissive hand. "two-faced harlot that made your brother the douche he currently is. Perhaps turn her into a very unattractive old hag? Or into a frog. Permanently."

Stefan stifled his laughter, Lexi snickering at his side before saying, "I would pay to see that."

"So the frog will remain a frog unlike the story of the _Princess and the Frog,_" Myrtle pointed out with a giggle.

Lexi chuckled. "In this case, she would need a prince."

"Not me!" He put his arms up in a defensive gesture. "I am done with Katherine or Katerina, whatever she is calling herself now."

"And your brother?" The blonde asked with raised eyebrows.

"He'll come around? Eventually," he answered sheepishly, ignoring her sceptical look. "He was the one who could not cope with her loss. Damon told me that he fell in love with her first." There was a small pause before he continued, only in a much more melancholic voice. "At that time, I was still seeing someone that I had loved since we were children but she passed away because of a horse-riding accident. But one day in Chicago, I truly fell in love for the second time with Bekah. " He took a locket out of his pocket. "I've been keeping this until our next encounter. I don't care if she is one thousand years old. I love her the way she is."

Silence took over for some minutes as Myrtle mulled over his words, eventually realizing that this "Bekah" was Lady Rebekah Mikaelson. The vampire whose body was supposedly cut in pieces and spread across the Atlantic by her brother Niklaus. But Myrtle believed that was just a ruse on the elder vampire's part; the Mikaelsons shared an eternal oath: "Always and Forever".

"Stefan, the Moodys continue to be very much respected among the magical community!" Lexi said proudly to her friend. "They have a long history of being Aurors – people who hunt Dark Wizards and Witches – and Hit-wizards or Hit-witches."

"And they are considered Pure-bloods!" Azure pointed out with a laugh. "Their Ancestress was a bloody werewolf! A family of Aurors and Hit-wizards…founded by a 'Dark Creature'? Oh, the shame it would be for the traditionalist _Pure-blood Ladies Society _if they heard about this."

"Labels are overrated," Lexi commented. "But humans are creatures of habits; self-entitlement is a very bad one though..."

"What are Aurors and Hit-wizards?" Stefan asked.

"Hit-wizards handle dangerous situations. They are our world's intelligence agents. Aurors work for a country's magical government and are responsible for capturing criminals and sometimes eliminating them," Azure explained. "They can also work as bodyguards."

"Those guys in brown trench coats and military boots?" Stefan said, discretely gesturing to two stern-faced men walking on a different section of the Mansion's gardens. "I saw a bunch of them in New York, back in November of 1926. They were repairing the city's buildings because of the rampage caused by that _Obscurus_ thing."

_As in the same time in which Grindelwald's attack on the Statute launched a temporary panic on the city to the point of forcing a mass _Obliviation _on the normal citizens..._

"Yes, it's one of their jobs but not the only one. Sometimes, they are allowed to _Obliviate_ non-magical people, which works like our compulsion," Lexi said thoughtfully. "They are forced to forget certain events that may expose the magical community. As you mentioned, Grindelwald's attack from seventeen years ago was one of them. Years before that madman of a human showed up in New York, Romania found itself in the middle of a crisis and a pair of Noble Vampires had to join the assigned Aurors. But the worst of the attacks happened in Vienna, 1932." A grim look appeared on her face and also on Azure's. "Several casualties."

Stefan nodded. "By the way, you told me that there were some forbidden spells that would instantly put you on a harsh prison for wizards…they were three?"

"The Unforgivables: _Imperius_, _Cruciatus _and _Avada…Kedavra_," Lexi replied. "Centuries ago, Britain did not have a Ministry of Magic, although there was the Wizengamot, the High Magical Court of Law. Active since before 1544, it is the oldest institution responsible for passing judgement on fellow wizards and witches."

"Starting from the fourteenth century, dividing spells as Light or Dark was a methodology that every grimoire or manual used," Azure interjected, biting her lip. "Every spell that harms directly a victim's Soul or the caster's Soul was labelled as 'Dark'. The 'Unforgivable' sub-category of Dark spells was only created during the late fifteenth century."

_Wizarding Law 11, Dark Spells Act 4, passed on 1__st__ of November of 1672 by the Wizengamot and rectified in 3__rd__ of December of the same year, _Myrtle added in her mind, recalling Professor Binn's lectures. Since the first year, she had distinguished herself as an "ace" – Azure's words – in History of Magic.

"The Wizengamot's Supreme Mugwump was…who was it again, Myrtle?"

"Solon Tranquilflow, Duchess Themis Tranquilflow's nephew," Myrtle replied to her friend, folding her arms and eyeing her with mock-disapproval. "This is first-year material, Ashlane."

Azure placed one arm on the back of her head sheepishly. "But I fall asleep a lot in History class…"

"Don't we all?" Lexi chimed in bemusedly.

"Talk for yourself, Lexi," Stefan retorted with a smile. "History was my first love when I was eight."

"If you say so," his friend said before taking a sip of her drink, the look in her eyes becoming nostalgic. "Alexandra would give me lessons on Wizarding History every Wednesday and Saturday. She taught me there was a thin barrier between the Light and the Darkness. The intention is the most important; even a simple _Scourgify_ Charm can suffocate someone to death."

"Or a Lightning Blast Charm, the _Fulmentio Explosa_. It is Light Arts-based but its effects are destructive," Myrtle added carefully. "Summoning Charms are dangerous if the intended object is too heavy for the caster. Imagine a piano; summoning that kind of weight without full mastery of the Charm can make it haywire and collide against the caster or a bystander's body. As for curses, they are automatically considered 'Dark', like the Bone-Breaking Curse – _Rumpe Ossum_ -, invented by the Dark Wizard Ivan Dolohov who also created its counter-curse, _Ossum Emenda_. But what makes them different from the Unforgivables is that curses cannot be invented without creating a counter-curse."

The blonde nodded sadly. "Those three are the exception. _Imperius_ is a wizard's vampire compulsion, except that vervain does nothing to protect you."

"You can order anyone to fulfil your commands. Anything," Azure added grimly.

"So we have a spell that compels the other, one that instantly kills people and if the Latin is the basis, _Cruciatus_ comes from the word crux, implying crucify..." Stefan frowned. "Pain?"

"Unbearable pain." Azure declared quietly. "In vampire terms, it could be like being exposed to sunlight without an amulet before your body bursts into flames but instead of a quick death, you feel every moment." Both vampires instantly grimaced. "Knives, daggers, all kinds of weaponry are unnecessary if you can cast the Torture Curse. Its after-effects...can permanently impair the victim's faculties."

He pursed his lips and asked with clear concern in his voice, "How do you defend against that?"

"Like the _Imperius_, you can build some resistance to it – strong-willed people hold on much longer – but…everyone was a breaking point," Azure replied, a grim look in her eyes. "Everyone."

_And you told me that someone used the _Cruciatus_ on you, Azure, _Myrtle added to herself, recalling her friend's strange marks on her wrists that were concealed by the light grey gloves she wore. Azure had said they were magical bonds. Through Aura Sight, she had found out she had been tortured, much to their horror.

As for the culprit's identity? That was another riddle to be solved.

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** Please, review!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "TVD" and "Vampire Knight"**

**A/N: I am having a lot of fun with this crossover. Only more two chapters left to go. Then, we will return to the main "Shades" plot. We will see more of Tom Riddle. Writing villains is interesting!**

**Trigger warnings: vampires as sexual offenders (some, not all), Stockholm Syndrome (in 1942, there is not a name for this, but that does not mean it doesn't exist), and castration (implied)**

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**Chapter Thirteen: Those Who Rule the Night**

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Riddles, codes, puzzles and enigmas. Myrtle had grown up learning about them and solving them with Grandpa and then, with Keane. But since she turned eleven, the riddles she had come across - excluding those that allowed entry into the Ravenclaw Common Room; they were, in all honesty, not challenging at all - could be compared to Gordian Knots and she knew that slicing them in two like Alexander the Great did would not have the intended result.

The strange girl from Slytherin who had become one of her best friends belonged to the "Gordian Knot" category. She had many layers to her personality and Myrtle had a feeling she wasn't nearly half-done discovering them. If there was someone in her life that deserved the title of "walking mystery", that someone was Azure.

"When I was little, I bore witness to them," the aforementioned girl told them, snapping Myrtle of her thoughts. "It was not a pretty sight."

"Those are the kind of memories that do not go away," Lexi said with pursed lips. "Twenty years after our first meeting, Alexandra used the _Cruciatus_ to save an innocent from another vampire. In the end, I killed him with a stake to the heart. It had to be done; he was a sadist who specifically targeted children…including in a sexual way."

The simple thought brought about a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Stefan narrowed his eyes. "Those are the worst and I say this from experience. At least my 'Hyde' persona never stooped that low."

"The Ripper of Monterey," Azure said softly, mismatched eyes looking at a crestfallen Stefan. "Lexi told us. We cannot judge you; you lost control but you chose to regain it. That is the most important, don't you think?"

"Agreed!" Lexi nodded, her hand lightly tapping his shoulder. Stefan rose his head and gave her a small smile. "Like Alexandra would say, live your life in a way that it won't taint your Soul!" She clinked her glass with his, grinning. "Let us make it the best because now is the moment!"

"I second that," he said, his smile becoming more genuine. "If you could redeem me, Damon…Damon might do the same thing. He is not a Ripper but he nearly shut off his emotions after I told him about Katherine's new life in Brazil." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, what happened to the vampire who turned you?" Stefan asked his friend.

"We, as in I and my friend Rose, tracked him down, finding him in Bourgogne five years after Alexandra died," she replied seriously. "He had killed an entire village except for the girls who were taken to the local ruler's castle. We had heard the rumours that he and his friends enjoyed playing with them. Some he turned, others no. He also branded them like cattle."

"Did he die in the end?" Azure asked, eyes darkening with anger. Myrtle grabbed her friend's hand in an attempt to calm down the Slytherin whose expression belied a cold rage. "For his crimes."

Lexi made a pondering sound before a satisfied smile appeared on her face. "We...cut off a very important part of the bastard's body before locking him up in a vervain-infested cell. Then, Elijah himself took care of it, not just the bastard, but his friends as well."

"Good riddance. He won't be missed," Stefan and Azure said simultaneously.

"My sentiments exactly. I wish I could say the same for the girls. We couldn't save all of them." Lexi informed sadly. "Those we could save had to be compelled…except for one. She asked us to not let her forget."

"Why?" Myrtle asked carefully. "It would be the logical thing to do, considering what..he put them through."

Grandpa had told her that most victims tried their hardest to forget the horrors they had seen. But, in certain cases, they could bond with their captor to the point of protecting him or her at the expense of their lives.

"Because she called me and Rose her heroines," Lexi answered softly. "Rose was crying when she was told that; we vampires almost never receive compassion from a human. So we did not compel her and she returned to her family. She swore secrecy about us. Her name was Maeve McGonagall." Myrtle's eyes widened in realization; Minnie's family has that name! "Not an unfamiliar name to you?"

"One of the Prefects is called Minerva McGonagall," Azure replied. "She is a Transfiguration prodigy. Non-nonsense girl but with an understanding personality. The best of her year and probably the next Wizarding Chess Champion. Or just the world champion if she ever decides to compete with her non-magical equals."

"Oh, I need to meet her!" Lexi said excitedly. "Out of the disciplines that magical schools offer, Transfiguration was the one that I was more interested in learning!"

"Really? I thought it was Arithmancy?" Stefan asked. "Or Ancient Runes?"

"That's Rose's thing!" Lexi retorted with mock-offence. "But we had to split up years after that and I eventually met the person who I fell in love with…I turned Lee because he asked; he was dying of the Plague," she continued melancholically. "Unlike me, he was given a choice." She rose her hand to show them the small ring on her fourth finger. "Marseille, 1632. Our anniversary is on 10th September."

Azure grinned. "Congratulations!

"Where is your…husband now?" Myrtle asked shyly.

"New York, working as a musician," Lexi replied with a wink. "The city has a local supernatural community created by Elijah. Unfortunately, Lee doesn't have real protection against the sunlight, thus why he couldn't come. His studio's glassed windows allow the sun to pass without harming vampires. Oh, how I miss travelling with him…the world is such a big place."

"But full of dangers: Salzburg, 1705," Stefan suddenly said, frowning at his friend. "The one almost incident that could have ended up badly if it wasn't for Alexandra's magic?"

"What happened?" Myrtle asked the blonde who took a sip of her drink.

"We met a Vampire who was extremely rude to Lee. I got a strange vibe that clearly told me to get away from him. Fortunately that Alexandra's magical earrings work as a shield."

"Did you feel pain when he approached you?" Azure asked with palpable concern. "Or a sudden desire to do everything he asked no matter how ridiculous it sounded?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Lexi answered. "He called me a fourth level woman – _yon'i onna_. But his eyes were…threatening: a light blue and a rusty red one. But a Hunter convinced him to go away. His name was Eren Yagari. He spoke strongly-accented English and was intimidating for a human. We stayed with him the night before continuing our journey."

"Yagari…the most renowned family of Vampire Hunters in Japan, also related to the Hunter Clan Jaeger," Azure mused. "Well, you were just passing by the area."

"Also, we are not the type they hunt except if we have turned off our human side," Stefan pointed out. "Pure-bloods are the root of the problem as their bite can turn a human into the fourth level and, eventually, he or she will become a Level E."

"True," Lexi said before frowning. "I've met some Purebloods before, but that one...he had a familiar scent. That's how I knew he was part of one of the clans."

"More than part of it, he was the previous Heir." Myrtle's eyes widened at Azure's sudden statement. "Lord Rido Kuran, the firstborn of Lord Byakuya and Lady Rio Kuran. Lord Haruka and Lady Jūri's older brother and also the former fiancé of their sister. He enjoys being a Vampire, in the most hedonistic way. Totally against his family's pacifist ideals."

Myrtle was shocked; how could someone like that be related to that kind couple?

_Wait, former fiancé?_

"Oh…" Lexi bit her lip. "That was Jūri's brother? The one who is still obsessed with her?"

Azure nodded. "My intuition tells me it won't end up well."

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** Please review!**


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "TVD", "VK" and also "Anastasia".**

**A/N: I had to make a reference to that movie ^_^**

**Chapter Fourteen: Love, an Unsolved Mystery**

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It was a known fact that things change as people change throughout their lives. Some are small changes and others are big changes. The fact that she and Azure were comfortably sitting at a table with two Vampires in her brother's wedding meant things had _really_ changed.

Her life after Azure may not be a rose-tinted one, but it was more colourful than the plain grey she was used to and once again, she thanked the Lord for going to that oak tree on that afternoon.

"You know, it was Bekah who taught me how to waltz decently. Though, I never say no to a bit of jazz," Stefan said with a chuckle before glancing at the dancefloor. "Some things never change, I guess. Dancing brings people of all kinds together."

"Like music," Azure added, mismatched eyes sparkling with joy. "Music and dancing bring colour to one's life."

Myrtle smiled, recalling her friend playing the piano about a week before. _"Once Upon a December"_ was the name of the song and she had loved hearing Azure hum it while her fingers touched the keyboards. After ballet songs, this song was Azure's favourite. It had also become one of Myrtle's favourites.

It was a song that made Myrtle feel warm and loved. It had given her courage. There was no need in hiding inside of a shell.

_Not anymore._

"Stefan and Damon Salvatore. Brothers for eternity," Azure pondered as Stefan ate his portion of wedding cake. The cake was a lemon cake with three layers of white chocolate, blackberry cream and crystallized blackberries and raspberries incrusted. The larger number of blackberries on his plate clearly indicated his preference for this type of berry over others.

"Bounded by an eternal bond," Stefan mused with a grin. "Quite the interesting topic for a fantasy novel."

"Add a tragic love story in the middle. Oh wait, there is already one!" Lexi said sardonically, pointing her fork at him, her lips stained with a bit of cream she promptly wiped out with her napkin. Lexi was not picky like Stefan; she loved all berries. "The woman who you believed to be your one true love was pursued by your brother and she was a Vampire. Of the worst kind, unfortunately."

"Just make it into a love triangle starring two vampires and a human because people would just love it," Azure interjected. "Mostly teenagers. Girls, not boys."

Lexi's eyebrows instantly shot to her forehead. "That. Will never happen."

"Never say never," Stefan told her sagely. Lexi slapped his shoulder and he winced, giving her an incredulous look. "What, you don't think it is possible?"

"I sincerely hope not," Azure muttered loudly. "Love triangles always end badly. Just look at the example of Romeo and Juliet. Mercutio became Romeo's greatest rival when he asked for Juliet's hand in marriage. Romeo became a murderer. The two lovers had to die to stop the conflict between their respective families." The Slytherin stabbed her fork grumpily, retrieving a generous portion of apple pie before devouring it. "King Arthur, Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere. We know how that ended." She snorted. "_The Great Gatsby_, another love triangle involving Tom Buchanan, Daisy Buchanan and Jay Gatsby. And don't even get me started with _Wuthering Heights_!"

Stefan laughed. "I take it you do not like romances?"

"Love triangles are the recipe to a romantic tragedy," Azure replied honestly. "In literature, when it is described as a one-sided love but eventually leads to the maturing of the characters, very well, I cannot dislike that. But I prefer detective novels. Sir Doyle's Sherlock Holmes is a masterpiece."

"Hmm...I see." Lexi said with an approving nod. "Now, I would like to ask my best friend in the whole world to invite me to dance. And speaking of which." She poked his chest playfully. "You haven't told me why you are here, Salvatore."

"Just being a good friend," he replied easily. "Elijah invited me along because he wanted me as a translator; most Pure-blood Vampires speak little of English after all. I spent sixth months in Japan but I still get the pronunciation all wrong."

"You should have asked me!" Azure said with a grin. "I am a certified polyglot."

"Well, I cannot disagree with that," Myrtle conceded, smiling knowingly as she sliced her piece of wedding cake. "But I bet that Morse code or Braïlle are still too advanced for you."

Azure tilted her head in confusion. "I know the second one is what the visually-impaired use for reading but the first one…a code?"

"The system is named after the American artist Samuel Finley Breese Morse who co-developed an electrical telegraph system at the beginning of 1836 communications," Stefan answered as if he had swallowed a book on the subject. "It was heavily used for secret military transmissions during the First Great War….and is still being used now." He gave a surprised Azure a cheeky grin. "I enlisted in the U.S. Army and they assigned us for a mission in Egypt with our British counterparts. One of them was the communications officer. He told me everything about it. For instance, S.O.S. is three dots, three slashes, three dots."

"Well, well, Officer Candidate Salvatore!" Lexi commented with a raised eyebrow. "Did you see any camels?"

"Sand," he said dryly. "Lots of it. And it is First Lieutenant Salvatore to you, Private Branson. Though, I visited a pyramid with my friend Jake – the communications officer. The food there was horrible." He made a face. "I had to consume not one but two blood tablets. God, they are so bland."

"But effective," the blonde countered with an amused smile. "Mix them with tea and you can pick up some flavours. I am partial to lavender or lemon."

Stefan sighed. "If Damon was here, I am sure he would say something like 'how the hell can they drink that? Forget it, I prefer directly from the vein, not that insipid thing.'"

"To each their own, Stefan. Now, are you coming or not?" Lexi asked. The male vampire dipped an imaginary hat and went with her, politely escorting the blonde to the dancefloor.

Myrtle noted that some couples were also waltzing, including the Kuran siblings, Lord Mikaelson and the no longer bored-looking Lady Ruri Souen. She could also see the willowy frame of Lady Yūka Aidō longingly looking at Lord Mikaelson and his partner.

Focusing on her dessert, she shook her head as an image of herself and Azure dancing very close to each other flashed in her head.

_Wait, where did that come from?_

Another image appeared, this time Azure and Myrtle looking at the sunrise, their heads leaning as they promised to always be together…

_What am I thinking? Azure is a girl!_

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But age and gender are details...for true love overcomes all obstacles! _Swooned a voice that belonged to a blonde Myrtle with red eyes and scarlet robes. She had dubbed it the "Gryffindor Myrtle". _

Unlikely,_ her rational Ravenclaw side coolly pointed out. She was wearing the kind of glasses that Minnie had, which also brought out the sapphire blue in her eyes._ Azurelia is a Pure-blood and Myrtle is just a Muggle-born. This society is not prepared for that kind of relationship.

While it makes me shudder to even consider agreeing with Miss Know-it-all, she has a point, _a female voice drawled, alerting the room that was Myrtle's inner Common room of its presence: Slytherin Myrtle. To Myrtle, it was as if she was seeing her sister with silver eyes. _Myrtle is a 'Mudblood' in the eyes of many prominent families.

_I stand by what I said before; true love overcomes everything! _The scarlet-clad Myrtle said to the bored-looking Myrtle who swiftly took her place in the round table which had been divided into four sections, each representing the Houses of Hogwarts.

As far as we know, Ashlane might be hiding her disdain for Myrtle's Muggle parentage, _Slytherin Myrtle argued evenly as she inspected her manicured fingernails. _ Slytherins are expert liars and masters of double-speak.

Hey, you! _A passionate voice proclaimed. It belonged to a Myrtle with yellow eyes and black robes. _Azure is honest and loyal to a fault! She has defended over and over Muggle-borns and even Rubeus. Her own House hates her. If you are saying that she is a lying snake, I say the opposite!

Trusting someone will always get you killed, _the green-clad Myrtle sneered at her fellow inner who gritted her teeth. _It's a cruel world that we live in, but it's the reality. The only person that you can trust is yourself.

Excuse me? _Ravenclaw Myrtle intervened calmly, pushing her glasses up her nose._ One's capacities can be improved by socializing. It is known.

Hear, hear! _Gryffindor Myrtle clapped loudly before giving the Slytherin Myrtle a hard look._ But it was thanks to your pessimistic mindset that our Myrtle nearly threw her life away two years ago!

Could you all just be quiet for a minute! _Myrtle nearly shrieked to her inners who reacted in some way – the Slytherin huffed, the Ravenclaw swallowed thickly but nodded, the Gryffindor tried her best to hold her tongue and the Hufflepuff was looking very ashamed of herself._ I will one day ask her about it. But not now, understood?

The foursome exchanged a quick look and nodded at her.

* * *

Myrtle sighed. Her inners were a handful...

"I'll return soon enough, all right?" The raven-haired blinked at her friend before nodding. If Azure wanted to leave, she had a good reason to do it. "Don't eat the whole cake without me."

Myrtle saw the taller girl raising from her seat to speak with Elijah Mikaelson who was no longer dancing, but simply leaning against a pillar. As he entered the Mansion, Azure followed suit.

He had been the first vampire she had met during the reception, the eldest of a family of vampires closely linked with Professor Binns. He also had said he regretted what his younger brother had done to the Ghost's only niece. When asked by Azure if this brother was still being punished, the Original did not answer verbally. He didn't have to; his eyes told everything Myrtle suspected.

Elijah Mikaelson may be a Vampire, but he was also a brother.

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	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" and "TVD", only my original characters.**

**A/N: This is Lord Elijah Mikaelson's last appearance in this book. He will be mentioned in other chapters and a "cameo" character in the second book. Since this is an Alternative Universe, I have changed the plotlines of "TVD". Stefan remembers Rebekah, Katerina Petrova/Katherine Pierce has a new lover in New Scotia or I think she does because it is the Katherine Pierce we're talking about. **

**Now, in this chapter, we can see how the relationship between Myrtle and Azure is changing. They are very close friends but Myrtle is aware she is developing a crush on the tall girl. Azure is a bit dense - someone had to be - and enjoys being around Myrtle. Here we also learn why the book is called "Shades of Green and Blue": it describes their relationship. **

**Azure is a Slytherin. She metaphorically wears shades of green in her skin. Myrtle is named after the flower "myrtle" whose colour is the same as her eyes: periwinkle blue. Hence why Azure said: "just like their namesake" in the fifth chapter (sixth, counting with the Introduction).**

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**Chapter Fifteen: The Birth of an Alliance**

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Azure was loving the wedding – she was loving to be in a wedding with a very happy Myrtle would be more correct to say – but she could not deny feeling intimidated by Lord Mikaelson. Unlike many idiots who never thought before speaking or acting – Gryffindors – she was a Slytherin with some Ravenclaw tendencies, which meant she was respectful of supernatural creatures.

Lord Mikaelson was one of them.

She could imagine him in Slytherin. He was cunning, resourceful and also ambitious. Despite his blatant love for his family, he had privately admitted he too had done his fair share of mistakes and hoped to make it up by reuniting with the family that Niklaus had taken from him, using any resources at his disposal. Very Slytherin of him.

In her opinion, his brother Niklaus Mikaelson was another Slytherin. Finn was clearly Hufflepuff, Kol was either Ravenclaw or Slytherin and Rebekah was perhaps a Gryffindor; she was daring and non-conformist.

Now, about Niklaus Mikaelson, feared and addressed by many as "Klaus": he was sadistic, irascible, had a bad temper, a childish personality and had no qualms about using others to reach his ends. Fact. Did he love his family? As much as it was crazy to admit, yes he did love them but had a strange way of showing his love. He had controlled Rebekah's love life since pretty much the beginning, partied with his hedonistic younger brother Kol and was a master strategist like Elijah.

If there was anything he was truly good at was psychological warfare. He had played this game with Lord Elijah for twenty years. He was probably sure that he would be victorious over his "Noble big brother".

Despite physically appearing to be in his late twenties, she and Myrtle had seen the way Lord Elijah carried himself: with self-assurance and authority, two things that immediately told her this was not someone to be crossed with. Physically, he was tall and very handsome with calm hazel brown eyes and short dark brown hair. His facial features were angular - high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a straight nose.

"I love my family and Niklaus knows this."

Azure could sense the anger rolling off his Aura when he spoke of what Niklaus had done, making her take deep breaths: Rebekah, Kol and Finn's body parts had been scattered all across the Atlantic.

"Bekah is his favourite. Nevertheless, Finn and Kol are also our siblings."

She nodded and asked politely, "How can I help you, Lord Mikaelson?"

"You already know how, Miss Ashlane," He replied calmly, oak brown eyes boring into her as he gave her a world map and drawings of Katerina Petrova –Niklaus Mikaelson's only good point was his artistic talent that would put the Renaissance geniuses to shame – and his family: Rebekah, Kol and Finn. "You were born with it."

In response, she closed her eyes briefly and tapped into her Aura Sight, the irises and the pupils changing to a milky-white colour. An innate type of magic, Aura Sight could pinpoint any kind of magical signature, whether it belonged to an object, a living being – supernatural beings obviously included – or the person responsible for casting a certain spell. It also allowed the wielder to see through any disguise or mask, including someone who had taken _Polijuice_.

When she needed to find someone, touching a drawing or something that belonged to the person in question was enough. Then, she would focus on the person's face and look at a map which would give her the answer she was looking for.

Finding an elusive vampire such as Katerina Petrova was a bit harder but she knew she could do it; she believed in herself.

Narrowing her eyes that had returned to their previous colour, she looked at the map's black dot pointing their current location. The dot became a long line that bifurcated once it reached North America. The first stopped in New Scotia, Canada, while the other headed towards the north-western region of the United States, pausing in Idaho.

Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, she wrote down the locations she was Seeing in her head and a name before giving it to the vampire who perused it, raising one eyebrow. "Boise Art Museum. My little brother always had a sense of humour."

She blinked her eyes, returning them to normal. "If you plan in finding Petrova first, you could try to reach out to one of our family friends. He lives in Ontario."

He gave her a bemused smile before pocketing the piece of paper. "You're a curious little human. Thank you, Miss Ashlane. As of this moment, you have the support of an Original. I do hope that we can see each other again and in better circumstances. Now, off you go; your charming companion is waiting."

Nodding politely, she returned to the table, relieved at the fact Lord Mikaelson had considered her an ally; she could ask him for assistance if necessary and he would honour her request. He was not known as the "Noble Original" for nothing; out of his siblings, Lord Elijah was reputed to be the one who respected human life the most.

Drinking her water, she listened carefully Myrtle explaining Professor Binn's history with the Mikaelsons, how his murder and his niece's had been carefully hidden by Lord Mikaelson who had promised to the magical community controlling his siblings better.

When the number of unexplainable corpses drained of blood increased and some of them became actual _Inferi_, the Mikaelsons had been forced to move to London because otherwise they would be found by the Original Hunter. As a result, wizards fought _Inferi_ and were forced to _Obliviate_ entire towns until the arrival of the feared Mikael resulted in another bloodbath…

"During that time, no one knew yet the three unspoken rules of dealing with a Mikaelson, especially the patriarch: do not be impolite, do not attempt to kill them and never betray them," Myrtle said carefully before sipping her water. "But now, things have changed."

Azure let out a childish huff. "Enough with the History lessons. I need to dance." She rose from her seat and removed her wand, gesturing it around her. The dress became a dashing tuxedo and her hair was now much shorter but still curly. "May I have this dance, My Lady?" She deeply bowed before Myrtle with one hand behind her back, her other hand extended for Myrtle to take.

The petite hesitated once before accepting it. "Keane taught me, but I am a bit out of practice…"

Azure winked. "Just follow my lead and everything will be all right." Leading her partner to the dancefloor, she dutifully placed one hand on Myrtle's waist and the other on her shoulder. Smiling, she looked at Myrtle's bespectacled eyes once again, admiring the soft blue in them. "Trust me."

Myrtle hummed. "When this is over, can I hear you play that song again?" She asked, her cheeks flushing red.

"As many times as you want, Twin-tails," Azure teased, Myrtle letting out a giggle in response at hearing her old nickname. "I am not going anywhere."

"Thank you."

_No, thank you._ Azure retorted inwardly, remembering the first day she met the girl she was now dancing with. Myrtle, the girl who had needed a little push to take off that mask of gloominess. Her most cherished friend who would become a magnificent adult one day. Myrtle, the girl whose eyes were the shade of blue that had always soothed a girl who wore shades of green.

A painting of blue and green…she could already imagine it on her canvas.

_I thank Lady Hecate and the Three _Moirae _for allowing me the chance of meeting Myrtle Elizabeth Warren._

Arms gently holding Myrtle's waist, she smiled as the sound of the recognizable first notes of Tchaikovsky's_ Song of the Swans _began to fill the air.

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	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you again for your review, Micchi. That line was funny, right? I always try to add a bit of comedy amongst all the drama. I hope you continue enjoying this story. Thank you for your support! **

**This chapter is a bit peculiar and contains some foreshadowing. It also shows us a different point of view. For those who are not familiarized with the "Fates", they are three mythological sisters that oversee the fates that befall each human being. They are also acquainted with the Grim Reaper Dispatch and the Reapers who are "always busy with work".**

**The Fates are three, each associated with one phase of our life. Clothos is the youngest, Lachesis is the middle one and Atropos is the eldest. They have plenty of sisters and brothers, one of them being the secretive Hecate, the Goddess of Magic and other things xD. Their clothes are Ancient-Greek inspired: there is the _himation_ (a sort of a cloak that is worn over the tunic) and _peplos_, a tunic that was the standard outfit for women).**

** Disclaimer: I do not own ****_Harry Potter_****, ****_Kuroshitsuji, Sinbad_**** or the mythological characters that appear here. Though, their role in this story and personality is solely my creation.**

**Chapter XVI: Soulmates and Fates**

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In a different plane of reality, three female figures watched over the pair of young witches through a basin full of water. Their Souls were glowing bright, the closeness creating a special melody that could only be heard by certain beings.

"The new Soulkeeper…is so young. Too young," the first commented softly. She was the youngest-looking of the trio and her _himation_ was pale pink. Her hands were spinning a golden thread from a distaff onto a spindle.

"Younger than those of the last millennia," the second agreed, her fingers holding a rod that measured the spun thread's length. She was wearing a deep green _peplos_. "However, no Soulkeeper has met their Soulmate."

"Just for a curt time," the first finished, her blue eyes mournful.

"The Fate of this one's Soulmate has been decided. Less than one year remains," the third warned, arms folded over her chest. Her voice was akin to an old woman's. A pair of golden shears floated at her side. Clad in a long tunic whose colour could be confused with black, she was the only one wearing a dark hood that hid half of her face. "It is unprecedented." Her eyes narrowed under the hood. "An Aura Seer as a Soulkeeper? What was our sister thinking?"

"She must have her reasons, Atropos," the first said to the other in a placating tone. "I can sense this young human means her thanks to us. She is...how do humans say...ah, one of a kind."

"She is not only a future Soulkeeper," declared an imperious voice from behind the trio, surprising them. It belonged to a woman with brown hair and white tips. She was in her twenties and wore a deep red robe. A pair of snakes was curling around her arms, giving the impression of long bracelets. She also had a tiara with a crescent moon. "Hello, Sisters of mine."

"Hecate," Lachesis addressed curtly as their sister joined them, a burning torch floating by her side. "For one thousand years, you have been keeping something from us concerning this human's bloodline…something that not even Apollo could himself discern. Only that Priestess of yours' progeny is aware."

"Why? As Fates, we must know," Atropos said while sending an accusing look at the solemn Hecate. "An Aura Seer cannot be a Soulkeeper; the length of their lifespans is exactly the opposite from the other."

"This one is a special case, for she is of the same blood as _her_ champion," Hecate explained vaguely, despite the stronger inflexion when she said "her" making the trio exchange a grim nod amongst themselves. "Amintha's granddaughter Electra Tranquilflow foresaw a second outcome to that prophecy, should the Heiress fail in her Soulkeeper duties. There is also another thing to be accounted: Arista's last dream before she joined her predecessors in the Elysian Fields." Her voice became deeper and, for a brief moment, the flames surrounding the basin flickered due to her Elemental Magic. "Both are tremendously unsettling. The balance shall be lost."

The Fates' posture straightened instantly, the eldest being the first to open her mouth, dark eyes boring into her fellow goddess. "Explain," she ordered.

Hecate nodded. "Arista's adoptive daughter dream-walked and she saw the Heiress and the Heir united, the former wielding the wand that no human should possess as she casts the Heir's Mark in the sky. The wand that is currently with Eris' former champion."

"What did you say?" Asked a frightened Clothos, eyes looking left and right to her sisters. "Eris' _former_ champion? But isn't he Gellert Grindelwald, the one who met the Soulkeeper years ago in St Blasien?"

"Oh yes, the one whose wand wood comes from the Underworld itself and that was..." Atropos's eyes flashed with anger. "..._stolen_ by Eris who had the galls to masquerade herself as the Chief Grim Reaper and give it to the eldest Peverell brother. Zeus himself had to intervene and she was temporarily forbidden from going to the human world."

"She did not seem much worried about that though; her children were all too pleased to do her bidding," Clothos remarked sadly. "Too many Souls lost their bodies and too many became eternal damned beings…"

"But why did she change her champion again?" Asked the half-exasperated Lachesis, naming some of their insufferable sibling's champions with her fingers. "Herpo, Salazar Slytherin, Zelena Greengrass, Antioch Peverell, Icarus Black, Louis Lestrange, Beatrice Bennet, Licorus Black, Mallory Malfoy, Ivan Dolohov, Rasputin Grigori, Richard Rosefield and finally, Gellert Grindelwald. The number of Soulkeepers needed to avoid her so-loved 'Glorious Chaos' was enormous," She turned to Hecate. "And I am just referring to the humans who learned magic. If we want to add in supernatural beings and other humans, our fingers would not be enough to count."

"Yes, indeed," Hecate said, waving her hand. The images on the water basin no longer showed the two Soulmates but the Soulkeeper and a second person: a dark-haired boy with cold dark brown eyes. "They share the same Ancestor, but a different Ancestress. Born on the same day, yet at a different hour, this boy is Eris' new champion," she informed, her lips pursing into a thin line. "According to Electra's dream, he aims to forever rule the world of magic and the mundane by using the Elder Wand and splitting continuously his Soul. His yew wand shall be forsaken for power. A new power."

"The Heir of Salazar Slytherin," Lachesis breathed, glancing at the silent Atropos. "Is there any way to prevent it? A Soulmate dying like this has never happened before; Herpo split the Soul by committing fratricide."

"You know as well as I that we are forbidden of interfering in a human's Fate, Lachesis. It goes against our very nature," the last _Moirae_ argued quietly. "This Soulkeeper will walk the same path of Eris's champion."

Lachesis nodded. "Or the path that will allow her to meet the Lost Child again."

"But only if she willingly parts with something important to her twice," Clothos concluded. "And she has to do it for love."

"It is her choice alone," Hecate supplied before letting out a tired sigh. "The current state of affairs of the human realm is already bordering on Chaos. If the Heir succeeds, we will never hear the end of this from our sister. I can perfectly imagine that smug smile of hers before she says the two words she is so fond of."

"Glorious Chaos," the trio chorused, Atropos' tone being sardonic.

"More like 'Eternal Chaos'," Lachesis muttered, gripping the thread that was in her hands in clear distaste for the scenario that had just flashed through their heads. "The Underworld will overflow with Souls."

"Hades himself would be forced to share some of his Souls with the Grim Reapers," Atropos mused, twirling her Shears absently. "The many branches of the Grim Reaper Dispatch would forever bother us with their complaints about the 'huge workload', like that obnoxious Reaper, Knox." Annoyance took over her calm features for a split second. "All thanks to our sister, of course."

"Speaking of which, where is she at now?" Clothos asked Hecate, who waved her hand again. The image was replaced by a place called "Vauxhall Road" and then, a building with the sign "_Pomum Aurantium: Books and Writing Supplies". _On its showcase, literary fiction, epics, plays and translated works had been put on display. The number _"114"_ could be seen engraved on the left side of the name of the shop.

"This is as far as I can show you, I am afraid," Hecate clarified to the Fates. "To the common human, it is a run-down building, but for her champion, it is a place he has gone to as a child. He feels compelled to go there sometimes."

It did not take too long for the Goddesses to translate the words. "'Golden Apple'," Atropos said before scoffing. The fruit that had been the beginning of everything. "How appropriate of her."

"This time, it will not be like Troy, burnt to ashes because of a human whose beauty rivalled Aphrodite's," Hecate interjected carefully, "Eris' champion has her cunning. Even the most inoffensive object can become a weapon...if one desires such thing."

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	18. Chapter 17

**A/N: Well, I never wrote from an antagonist's perspective before so I am hoping I got his personality and way of thinking right. I won't deny he is a fascinating villain, more than his older psychopathic self. I have to thank fellow fanfiction writer ****_Atypical 16_**** for her help in fleshing out this particular character.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", ****_Sinbad_**** (the DreamWorks movie) and that includes the plethora of characters from the books and the movies. **

**Chapter XVII: The Serpent-tongue's Legacy**

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The young man calmly walked into the bookshop he had gone to as a child, eyes looking with mild interest at the volumes on the shelves. The shop was well illuminated by the old lamps inside, contrasting with the ever grey sky that London was known for. Unlike the other times in which he had simply borrowed the books – the unseen owner did never pose any objections so who was he to not refuse – he had gone to_ "Pomum Aurantium: Books and Writing Supplies_" to buy a journal as a present to himself before he returned to Hogwarts tomorrow.

Today was also the last day of August and the eve of his new life as a House Prefect, replacing Patrick Parkinson.

Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle was in a "celebrating mood"; two days ago, he had received an owl from the Headmaster himself that said he had been chosen as a Prefect. This would give him the necessary authority to discipline other students and also continuing to pursue his goal: the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.

But for that, he needed to look into that defiant witch's memories.

_If it was not for her usefulness, she would have crossed the Jordan by now._

The corners of his lips quirked upwards momentarily, his mask back in its place as he eyed the Muggle at the counter who was writing something with a pencil. Her name was Olivia Rivers, the second eldest child of a family of thirteen siblings raised by a single mother who he had yet to meet, along with her thirteen brothers and sisters who were scattered in several parts of the world doing who knows what.

Not that any of this mattered to him of course.

"Hello, Tom!" The Muggle greeted affably, her blue eyes leaving the parchment to look at him. "You have grown up a bit again. Are you now…fifteen?"

"Yes, Miss Rivers," he replied, hands holding a book entitled "_Romeo and Juliet_", fingers idly defoliating the pages. He had read the play once and he had been thoroughly unimpressed. The main characters were love-stricken fools who had chosen to die instead of living.

_Love...huh? _He snapped shut the book with anger before putting back in its respective shelf. _Pathetic. Just like that almost-Squib, Merope Gaunt._

"What's in a name?" The Muggle quoted calmly, blue eyes locking with his own. "'That which we call a rose…'"

"…'By any other name would smell as sweet'. Act II, Scene II.'" He completed automatically, berating himself for doing it. Sometimes, his eidetic memory got the best of him. Given the fact he had devoured book after book during his childhood, he could recite an entire paragraph by heart, whether he found the book interesting or the exact opposite.

It was such a shame the shop didn't sell books on _Inferi_ and curses.

_As if. You are in a Muggle bookshop, _his inner voice said snidely.

"Would you do it? Choosing death over life?" The Muggle asked him.

He made a pondering noise before replying with a question of his own, "In a world where the weak are devoured by the strong, where power is all that matters, is that not a wild goose chase?"

"So you believe in survival of the fittest? Or let me rephrase it; self-preservation and running from which is unavoidable instead of facing it?"

"If by that you mean Death, then yes," he answered smoothly, dark brown eyes looking at the curious creature inside of an aquarium. It had a greenish skin and resembled a cross between a _Kraken_ and a snake. "There is no such thing as 'unavoidable' if you are powerful enough."

_I am destined for great things, you silly Muggle, _he sneered inwardly, _One day, you will also bow to the one who shall become the greatest sorcerer in the world._

"Everyone is entitled to their own opinion," the Muggle said diplomatically, "Many cultures may have their versions of Death, despite I do not think much about it."

At this, Tom could not help but let out a chuckle, his hand reaching for a black leathered journal. Simple and practical. A bit pricy though – three pounds equalled four galleons and two sickles in Wizarding currency. "What do you think about then?"

"Tell me, what do you fear?" She asked him back.

_Death._

"Nothing," he answered, the easy lie rolling out of his lips, a thumb gently touching the blank pages.

"Some might think of you as a fool. Fear is part of human nature."

_They are the fools. _He swallowed the retort, preferring to hold his tongue as the opposite would be a Gryffindor-like attitude, the sort of people he disliked dealing with. The House of Blood-traitors, Mudbloods and of course, the old coot who favoured Gryffindors over the other students, especially Slytherins.

"I think that everyone fears the same thing," she continued, more to herself than him. "individuals leave their mark in history if they do great things or the worst things. Nero is infamous for setting Rome on fire or blaming Christians for the crime. Caligula, real name Gaius Caesar, is recorded as a young and rash dictator who became obsessed with immortality and made his people live through real terror during his short rule."

_Nero and Caligula…interesting examples you used. But they were just Muggles, unlike Salazar Slytherin, my direct Ancestor and the greatest of the Founders._

"Your point being?" He asked, his voice denoting the barest hint of impatience. While he prided himself on being a very self-controlled person, this Muggle was beginning to annoy him. He had slipped the wand under his sleeve just in case, despite he knew he could not do magic or that blasted Trace would earn him a letter from Ministry officials.

_Then again, I could use _Legilimency_ and just grab what I want. _He thought, eyes glittering with malicious intent as he took another step closer to the counter. _No witnesses, just the two of us…it would be a doddle thing to do. If there is something that matron is right about is that I am good at not being caught._

"Oblivion. Those who stay within our memories are only those that are remembered. For the good and the bad," she said before giving him a thin-token smile. "If they are forgotten, they die. If they die but are not forgotten, they live."

And, just like that, he found himself continuing this conversation. In the beginning, he thought the pretty Miss Rivers to be like the other girls at Hogwarts who fawned over him and did not care whether he lifted up their skirts or not, but he was mistaken.

"If they die but are not forgotten, they live…then you would also need something important. To ensure that you are not forgotten," he said to her, the corners of his lips curling upwards. "Would you like to know what that is…Olivia?"

"A name," she replied, not batting an eyelash at how intimately he had addressed her. "You would need a name; there is only one of each: Aristoteles, Plato, William Shakespeare, Vincent Van Gogh, Rafael Botticelli, Mozart, Nostradamus, Leonardo DaVinci, Dante Alighieri and so many others. People remember those names because of what those individuals did. They were recognized as remarkable – both meanings fully intended – before or after death. Names and words are powerful."

He nodded in agreement before shifting his attention to the sea marine being. "Curious creature you've got here," he said conversationally. "Does it have a name?"

"That's Cetus. Like the constellation," the Muggle replied with a sigh. "My mother has a rather…unique naming sense."

He tried his best to not snort. "That makes two of us."

_Except that my mother is dead._

"It will cost you three pounds," she said to him while receiving the item he wanted to purchase. "Free of charge if you give me something that I don't have but only you have."

_Something I don't have but only you have…a riddle. Well, I am no Ravenclaw, but that one is easy. She wants information. Personal information._

"I was named after my father, Tom Riddle, and my maternal grandfather. Marvolo is his name."

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	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: Here we discover certain things about the plot of "Shades" and meet the instigator behind scenes. She is based on the ****_Sinbad_**** movie character. For those who watched the movie, you can guess who I am talking about. I have been dropping hints until now ^_^**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them" or ****_Sinbad_**.

**Trigger warnings: torture (implied)**

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**Chapter Eighteen: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT**

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The Muggle flipped the journal on its back cover before quickly applying a tag over it. "So your name is Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

"Unless the matron of the orphanage's hearing was poor when she was told those words by the source, yes," he replied casually, a calm smile on his features. "Now, did I pass your test?"

"Excellently," she said before giving the journal and a pencil to him. "Would you like to sign it? The moment you name one thing you become its owner."

"That would be most favourable. Thank you," he answered and, opening the journal's first page, wrote "_T.M. Riddle", _his grip on the pencil tightening.

_This name…I abhor it since I found out I was a wizard. When I surpass my Ancestor and Grindelwald, the world will never associate me with the Muggle name "Tom Riddle."_

"You know, if you are unhappy with your name…you could always change it," the Muggle said thoughtfully when he returned the pencil to her. "Many people have done it throughout history. Gods and goddesses have epithets; poets, artists and authors do not always sign their real names. They use alias or anagrams."

_Come to think of that, Rosier's late aunt was known for that. It certainly suited her moniker "The Witch of a Thousand Faces," _he thought as he pocketed the journal. _But what kind of name would it be worthy of a wizard such as me? Born with the purest blood in his veins…could only be a Lord._

However, the name must also contain some part of his identity or it will be meaningless. So…what did he have that was so different from all the others?

"Death…" He murmured under his breath.

"You want to be renamed 'Death'?" She asked, hiding her smile with her hand. "Isn't that a bit…redundant?"

_No, you silly Muggle, _he thought contemptuously, his dark brown eyes menacing, _I do not want to become Death. I want to surpass it. I will not be bound by that Law that Ashlane keeps prattling about in her thoughts. I will become the one who flees from Death…for all eternity._

His eyes widened a fraction as he realized he had found his name, the name that everyone would know and instantly cower in fear.

"Well, it has been quite a pleasure, but I must take my leave. Good day to you, Miss Rivers." He gave her one last polite smile before walking to the door. Opening it, he stepped out of the bookstore.

"For you as well, Tom…" The voice of the shopkeeper said, now becoming a distant echo in his mind.

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On the display mirror of a building that used to be a bookshop, he could see his reflection. If he recalled correctly, the building had been destroyed by the Blitz…

_Wait. What am I doing here?_

He searched his memories of today and found his answer: he had gone to _Winstanley's Bookstore & Stationers_, a newsagent located on 422 Vauxhall Road, London, England. There, he had purchased a single article: a black-leathered journal which he had instantly signed it as "T.M. Riddle". He had also renamed himself. In other words, he had abandoned his filthy father's Muggle name.

Frowning, he removed the item from his pocket and flipped it over, dark brown eyes looking curiously at the tag with his full name. When did he do this?

A second passed before he shrugged and began to walk his way back to the orphanage; Tom Marvolo Riddle had what he wanted. His fifth year was about to start but this time he had been elevated to the position of a Prefect. That witch's memories would eventually unveil themselves and the Chamber would open.

But one day…Tom Marvolo Riddle shall vanish from the face of the Earth, allowing the one who flees from death to be born and rule over the world.

_As of this moment, I am not just Tom Marvolo Riddle…for I am Lord Voldemort._

He chuckled darkly, eyes looking at the familiar gates of the place that had been a hellhole for most of his childhood until that day in the cave. The same day in which that Muggle girl became his toy before Ashlane. However, Ashlane would always fight back.

The girl never did; she was _his_.

Ringing the bell, he waited for the gates to open and saw the Muggle helper expecting him at the front door. Passing by her, and ignoring the suspicious look that he had seen in the matron sometimes, Tom entered his bedroom, promptly locking the door.

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"He is so cute…and so not gullible," commented a sultry voice that belonged to a woman with light green eyes who lazily lounged on her realm's throne, her hand holding a golden goblet of ambrosia. Aurors all over the world – especially in Europe – would instantly recognize her as the Revolutionary Gellert Grindelwald's most trusted supporter, the "Witch of a Thousand Faces", Vinda Celia Rosier. A Pure-blood Sorted in Slytherin, she was also the one who had entangled the Black twins. Together, they had been responsible for many deaths, both Muggle and wizards.

Too bad that "Vinda" had been just a disguise; impersonating humans was a child's play for a Goddess. Faking her death had also been easy.

As far as the world was concerned, "Vinda Celia Rosier" had died in Crete, 1937. She had left behind a nephew and a niece respectively named Aiden – betrothed to Iris Parkinson – and Druella, the children of Evan and Clara Rosier. She was also the late godmother of the scion of the House of Avery.

"I love playing pretend," she said to herself, inwardly musing on the fact that it had been quite a few centuries since her last visit to the human realm. Some things had changed, others not. Discord was overflowing, along with strife and suffering...

Everything was going exactly how she wanted things to be.

Truth to be told, it had cost her a bit to part her ways with her Gellert. He was ambitious, very good-looking and powerful. But Tom had something she liked a bit more, other than the sexual sadism which was a bonus point: his bloodline.

This boy was Salazar Slytherin's descendant. She had to have him, so few hours before his birth into the human realm, she had bestowed upon him her influence and watched with eagerness as he Marked a child years later, laughing in anticipation for the Chaos his actions would bring. Eris's cave had been the beginning for the little human girl's thread of Fate to be spun into a tale of pain and loss. And the one who had started to spin it was none other than her champion. Though, Eris had helped a bit, which was...well, rare of her.

_Then again, I have a…fondness for dark-haired men over blondes,_ she chuckled between sips of the liquid, moaning of pleasure as the sweet ambrosia filled her insides.

Taking another sip of her beverage, "Vinda" began to calmly tap into her arm's throne as she watched the events unfold before her through a floating orb. Waving her hand, the goblet vanished and her appearance changed completely: the pale skin was now a purplish-blue – unmarred, except for a very small scar on her cheek that one of those self-righteous Soulkeepers had given her – and a glowing mark shaped like a St. Andrews's cross near her left shoulder. Her hair became much longer and was flying in all directions as if it was permanently underwater. Instead of the dark green overcoat, the hat, the black dress and the high-heeled boots that Aurors typically associated her with, a deep violet strapless dress with a diamond cut appeared in its place.

But what was truly inhuman about her was her eyes: they were red and had a yellow cornea.

"Lethe, well done," she said proudly to the being at her side and who her new champion knew as Olivia Rivers. "I knew I could count on you."

The other's former blue eyes became a pale white and her hair turned straight black. The skirt and blouse became a light grey gown with a low cut that showed her cleavage. "It is my pleasure to be of service to you, _Meter_."

Eris patted Lethe on the head with her free hand, fingers gently putting back some loose hair strands. "All the pieces are coming together…" She mused out loud before shrugging, her hand leaving Lethe's face who had the faintest pink on her cheeks. "…nevertheless, it is still too early."

"We have to wait. It will only happen on the 13th of June."

"Correct, my child," Eris agreed, looking at the orb that showed her champion inside of his bedroom as he calmly read the _Pure-Blood Directory_ book which one of his Housemates had lent to him before focusing in the chapter dedicated to the House of Gaunt, a former influential and prestigious family. The same family that he would look for and from that moment, Chaos would arrive and it would be glorious. "Until then, keep me entertained…'Lord Voldemort'."

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** Review!**


	20. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "TVD" and "The Originals". I do own my original characters.**

**A/N: We are back to Myrtle's point of view. Micchi-chan has told me that Myrtle's storyline is a bit boring, unlike Azure. Well, let's see if I can change Micchi-chan's mind. Once again, thank you for your reviews!**

**Chapter Nineteen: An Imperfect World**

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Despite being born almost in the summer, that season was not her favourite; summers meant putting up with Holly's behaviour, except when stayed three weeks of July with their cousins at the farm owned by Aunt Siobhan. Holly's acting was good, but not good enough for Aunt Siobhan. She always knew when someone was being sincere or not.

Aunt Siobhan had jokingly explained this was because she was a child of winter; Grandma Saoirse – who Myrtle had never met because she had died of leukaemia after Mom's third birthday – used to say to Aunt Siobhan that children born during the winter grew up to be much more perceptive than others.

And then, when Myrtle finished her first year, Aunt Siobhan explained that Grandma Saoirse had been a witch. Sorted in Gryffindor, Grandma Saoirse was "exceptionally good" with Charms and she had metal-related wandless magic; she could change an object's metal, which had made her a potential candidate for Charms Mastery. After receiving it, she had worked for Gringotts', travelling to distant locations such as Egypt, Norway, Italy and Austria. It was during one of those journeys that she would meet a dashing Irish spy called "MJ"…and the rest is history.

Azure's flabbergasted expression after Myrtle told her this had made Myrtle laugh. She had not done that since Grandpa told her and Keane about an awkward meeting with Grandma Saoirse in a mission that took place in Athens.

However, when the topic was the Slytherin's own family, she would change the subject, exchanging likes and dislikes.

Until now, she knew some things: Azure's great-aunt Gwen had been killed in Vienna by the infamous criminal Altair Black, her great-uncle Chris was a famous explorer and writer whose books were formerly inside of Grandpa's house, having been moved to her parents' house after his passing. Finally, Azure's parents had a "dangerous job" that allowed them to fight Grindelwald's followers, which in turn had made their daughter have a lonely childhood.

After spending a considerable amount of time without knowing, she decided to try again. Stubbornness ran in the Finnegan family.

The "Come-and-Go Room" was this week's chosen spot for the duo to meet up; it was too cold for them to be out in the open and Myrtle loved to watch the room changing according to their wishes. The current room where they were was a Victorian-styled lounge room, which made Azure think of home. Myrtle found it to be very comforting and incredibly similar to the Ashlane Manor she had stayed over for a week.

Myrtle was reading _The Hobbit_ while eating a yellow-coloured macaroon that tasted like lemon. The sweets had been an offer from Azure's godparents the Flamels, an immortal couple who travelled around the world and spoiled their goddaughter "too much", as Azure had once put it before eating non-stop a dozen of bonbons.

Chuckling fondly at the memory, she defoliated another page before touching her cheek briefly, admiring how smooth it was now, and no stupid puberty signs whatsoever. Previous to meeting Azure, she had never been interested in how she looked, but Myrtle had become a new person, much more confident, happier and prettier, all thanks to the strange sleeping girl she had first laid eyes on a tree branch.

"Why are you so adamant in knowing about them anyway?" Azure asked patiently, the lead pencil being brought up and down, left and right, on her floating sketchbook. She was emulating a childish look; her messy hair had been caught up in two pigtails, contrasting with Myrtle's braid.

"Relationships are based on trust," Myrtle replied pointedly. "Since I told you everything about my family, including Grandpa's past as a spy, why shouldn't you reciprocate?"

"You have a point." Azure stopped drawing and, leaning against a fluffy pale blue armchair the Room had conjured for them, tucked the pencil behind her ear. "Should I start with my mother's family or my father's?"

"Your mother's, please."

"Her name is Eurelie and her maiden name is Rougepierre, an old French family mainly involved with Alchemy."

Myrtle's eyes widened at the second name; Rougepierres and Tranquilflows had been the major driving forces behind the study of transmutation of metals and Alchemy's medical appliances.

"Actually, I think the family's Ancestor was a Muggle…but I digress." Azure chuckled. "We are related to the Lestranges through marriage after Rosette Rougepierre became the wife of Julianus Lestrange during the reign of Louis XIII of France."

"You're related to Rosette? The one who became one of the first Beauxbatons Headmistresses? The prodigal grandniece of Perenelle Flamel, who excelled in both fencing and Wizarding duelling?" Myrtle ranted animatedly.

"As expected of Professor Binn's favourite student!" The petite shyly smiled. "Finally we have someone who can hear him for two hours without falling asleep because of a never-ending lecture on Goblin rebellions which, by the way, are too biased and I almost don't remember anything he says. Seriously, someone ought to share with the students what means to be a Goblin, their traditions and-"

"Fine, you've made your point," Myrtle cut in, arms crossed as she gave the taller girl a half-shrewd look. "We all remember when you insisted with Professor Binns for my Head of House to lecture on Goblin history. Last week, you wanted him to introduce one of his cousins who works at Gringotts to the rest of the class."

"But apparently, that is not 'proper', as Professor Selwyn explained to me. He was 'very disappointed'," Azure said in a deep male voice before snorting. "As if I cared about disappointing him; we learned a lot with that lesson. We should not only be wand-carriers to them!"

Myrtle frowned. "Wand-carriers?"

"A Goblin derogatory term for Wizardkind," Azure replied matter-of-factly before retrieving another macaroon. "Goblins and elves do possess magic. They are much powerful than us because we need wands to cast spells, except in the cases of wandless magic."

"And they do not. Goblins, elves and other creatures can control their magic since birth."

"Intelligent creatures they are. Humans tend to undermine species because they are different, physically or not," Azure pointed out. "At some point, non-magical people enslaved their own kind because of skin colour. Many wizards and witches are brought up with a similar mindset; slavery applies to those who have 'lesser intelligence'."

Myrtle's bespectacled eyes sparkled furiously. "Addressing centaurs as 'creatures of subpar intelligence' like our Ministry for Magic decrees is thoughtless and utterly disrespectful!" "Our lifespan is much shorter than theirs!"

"With age comes wisdom," the Slytherin said seriously. "We have our faults to balance with our strengths."

Myrtle nodded in agreement. Holly's attitude toward her had changed since the wedding: she would ask for Myrtle to help with her Math homework and even asked her to help her with her piano lessons.

The heartfelt smile that her younger sister had given her after their first lesson together or when they did bubbles of soap together…was the first positive memory she had of Holly since quite some time.

"We are all to an extent, humans," Azure continued, a grim look appearing on her face. "The _Dementors _used to be humans. Demons too."

Myrtle shivered, recalling Professor Merrythought's lesson on those…things. Despite they obeyed the Ministry, it was disturbing that Grindelwald's followers like Rosier had somehow managed to _tame_ those wicked beings, certifying her claim as the most infamous Dark Witch of this century. "They are the utter damnation of a human Soul, innocent or not," she supplied. "Most Ghosts are imprints of deceased witches and wizards."

Azure gave Myrtle a solemn nod. "_Inferi_ are reanimated corpses of humans by a Dark Wizard. Werewolves exist because they were bitten or were born with the gene, only activating it if they take an innocent life." Her voice saddened, the effect also displayed in her eyes. "Accidental deaths, as regrettable they are, do not invalidate it."

"Don't forget Vampires; they became like that because they were fed vampire blood or were bitten by a Pure-blood," Myrtle said, a small smile on her face as her supernatural friends' faces appeared on her mind.

Whoever had said that Vampires were mindless beasts needed a good slap in the face or in the butt.

_"__Hum…what if we charmed a boot to go after a pre-ordained target's behind?"_ Gryffindor Myrtle said mischievously, followed by a mental snort from the Slytherin Myrtle and her Ravenclaw Myrtle's matter-of-fact voice muttering "how juvenile".

_Stay out of this_, Myrtle demanded her inners. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Myrtle gushed that Myrtle being in denial was "adorable".

_I am not in denial! _She scowled inwardly, her cheeks turning pinkish.

_"Are too!" _Their voice parroted and Myrtle could perfectly imagine their identical grins.

_No, I am not._

_"Yes, you are! We are you, remember?"_

Knowing it was pointless to argue with these two, Myrtle took a deep breath and ate another macaroon before looking at her friend. "But calling them 'Dark Creatures' reiterates how fond of labels this magical society is."

"'Dark Creatures,'" Azure muttered, twisting her nose at the last word. "While it is true that some supernaturals kill humans for sport, some respect and grow to love them as equals or close to it. Speaking of which, those four are where now…Burma?" She sighed. "Things are getting rough there. _Inferi_ attacked some villages and there was also a _Dementor_ attack…"

"The number of casualties is decreasing compared to previous years," Myrtle put in seriously. "But there is a lot of work to do. Many people need help."

"Some people are being fantastic helpers; what Lexi chose to do is an honourable thing that most vampires would be indifferent to because this is not 'their war to fight'.

Myrtle smiled in agreement, recalling what she had read in Lexi's letter: Lord Elijah Mikaelson had punished Niklaus and finally removed the dagger from Rebekah who was all too happy to see Stefan again. Elijah was living in New York with an immortal witch named Quetsyah, or "Tessa". After the couple reunited like Lexi and her husband Lee, who meanwhile had gotten a daylight ring from Tessa, Lexi and Rebekah had become nurses, helping the people who were losing their lives due to the war. Lee had joined Stefan in the U.S. Army as a photographer.

Since the end of August, the letters would always come with photographs of makeshift hospitals in several locations across Asia. The last one was in Burma. All of them depicted the happy foursome and if those new matching rings on Stefan and Rebekah's ring fingers were real, then the very good-looking Mr Salvatore was no longer a bachelor.

In spite of knowing they were more than capable of defending themselves, she could not help but feel worried; they were in the middle of a combat zone. A combat zone with Soul-sucking monsters controlled by a madman and evil spirits who tricked soldiers and civilians into killing each other.

"As for the Vampire Nobles or 'B-Level', they are in the middle; they tolerate humans and interact with them during formal occasions," Azure continued. "In Vampire Soirées, you can even find Hunters and representatives from the ICW..."

"But the only people they obey are either the Purebloods or the Council of Elders," Myrtle supplied. Thanks to Stefan, a fellow history lover, learning the history of the Vampire Clans had become her new obsession during the summer. "For instance, the Shiki clan, who is more inclined to the Elders' faction, unlike the Aidō, Sōen and the Tōya clans."

"Now, imagine if our 'Pure-bloods' decided to challenge these 'Dark Creatures'. They would be slaughtered."

The petite sighed in agreement. "If it wasn't for the Vampire-Wizard treaty signed in 1555 between the International Confederation of Wizards, Lord Mikaelson and the Pure-blood Vampires, we would have had a serious problem in our hands."

"And the credit goes to Pierre Bonaccord, Supreme Mugwump of the Confederation." The Ravenclaw rose one eyebrow at the Slytherin who, according to the "Insufferable Trio", usually slept during History of Magic class. "Second-year assignment: elaborate a biographic study of a historical personality, 3 inches of parchment minimum…I got a P because I forgot to deliver it on time. At the end of the year, Professor Binns gave me a low A," her friend added casually. "And you?"

"I chose Rosette Rougepierre, duellist extraordinaire," Myrtle replied proudly. "and I got an O."

"Quite impressive," Azure complimented. "And can you deduce the only person who got an O in my second year and the next after that? Hint: I share two things with him, one of them being that we hate each other's guts."

"Tom Riddle," Myrtle replied wearily as a shiver went down her spine. Whenever Azure and Riddle met, their magical pressure was so strong that the temperature would drop several degrees.

"He may be Hogwarts' best student, but good grades do not make one a good wizard or witch. I know plenty of people who are better than him." Azure's eyes fell on Myrtle, her grin widening. "Including the lovely girl who is in front of me."

The raven-haired's cheeks flushed.

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** Review, please!**


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N: Thank you very much for your reviews, Micchi-chan. Writing from a villain's perspective is always a nice change. Eris' revelation as the big bad guy behind scenes was probably a bit obvious but I know that I surprised you with the "Vinda Rosier" mask…and the shopkeeper being one of Eris' children.**

**Vinda Rosier, for those who didn't watch "The Crimes of Grindelwald", is a known follower of Grindelwald who doesn't speak much and has a secretive personality. She is seen killing a young Muggle child (off-screen) and having tea with Queenie. **

**In my storyline, Rosier is one of Eris' disguises. She attended Hogwarts and influenced some students who later became part of Grindelwald's Army...but I am getting ahead of myself. More about her will be disclosed...in due time.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "The Vampire Diaries", "Sherlock Holmes", only my original characters. Now, buckle up, for another chapter is waiting for you!**

**Trigger warnings: implied sexual assault (Kol Mikaelson, an Original Vampire and also one of Eris's champions), infanticide (traditionalist families), implied past self-harming **

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**Chapter Twenty: Behind Bespectacled Blue Eyes**

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It had only taken some months for Myrtle to realize that Azure and Myrtle's wandless magic matched; the Slytherin's wandless magic was Air-related, while Myrtle's was Water-related.

This meant their bond was unusually strong, something that also applied when two people shared a _Patronus_ corporeal form. According to Professor Merrythought, Dark Wizards were unable of producing a _Patronus_ because their magic had become too corrupted. For the Auror recruits, mastering the Charm was part of their training; "happy memories" were needed.

A better definition of a "happy memory" - which also reminded Myrtle of how Pixie Dust worked – was an "intense memory". Strong but positive feelings were what the _Dementors _sought but as long as the wizard maintained the shield, the creature could never touch his victim and ultimately consume his or her Soul; _Dementors_ would instead feed off the shield's magical energy.

If Azure's was a badger; Myrtle's was just a big ball of light, which was surprisingly advanced for four-year-students. But when it came to spell-casting, Azure was better than Myrtle; her friend's arsenal of spells – and fighting moves – was wide. She had seen Azure duelling older students, Riddle included, albeit that particular duel had been quite fierce, involving the use of constant non-verbal magic.

Professor Flitwick had once said that "intention is the key". It was thanks to that advice that Myrtle would finally be able to cast a Patronus, focusing on the memories of Keane when he patted her head, Grandpa telling them stories, Keane hugging Myrtle after her first owl died and her first meeting with Minnie.

But when she remembered the memories she had shared with Azure, Myrtle always felt something stronger. A special kind of intimacy, especially when her friend began behaving like a boy, no, a gentleman…

One of those memories was when they had danced at the wedding. During two days, she had made new friends and met people who were no longer "alive" in the strict sense of the word.

_"__So, I finally meet Cuthbert's favourite student…it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Warren."_

_"__I was born in a world of wealth and glitter. Oh, and how glorious it was, to live in Vienna, married to a dashing young noble who I had loved from afar."_

_"__Lord Elijah Mikaelson is an old Vampire. He is quite reasonable but when his family is being threatened, he is like any older brother. He removes the obstacle. He is methodical in his kills."_

_ "__I am Lexi Branson. My full name is Alexia, but don't call me that."_

_"__I am Stefan Salvatore."_

_"__Oh, Miss Warner, what a surprise to see you here..."_

But she was certainly not expecting to find her favourite teacher. Almost no one could stand his classes without sleeping through them every Tuesday and Thursday. As for outside of the classroom, he was a loner – Peeves had even teased him that he and the Grey Lady would make a great pair – and only talked openly with people who he sincerely liked.

_"__I had a niece once but I might as well call her 'daughter'. The Mikaelsons were fond of her, especially Rebekah, who treated her as a little sister. I couldn't protect her from that monster...and God punished me."_

Myrtle happened to be one of them. It was as if they were almost like…kindred spirits.

_"__Monsters with men's desires are the worst of the monsters we can find in this world, Miss Warner. __Nora was innocent and he - Kol - stole it from her."_

Professor Binns Professor had narrated bitterly, removing his spectacles and allowing her to see a pair of dark blue eyes…full of sadness and regret.

_"__Kol…means 'dark' in Old Norse. I saw true darkness when he killed me and after that. He was…the Dark Prince incarnate."_

What he had implied was something that she, a well-read person, knew: the Bible had plenty of examples, mythology was full of it and finally, she had read too many of Shakespeare's works to be able to tell the difference when that kind of intimacy was wanted or not.

Men – of any species – could be monsters.

"Hey, Azure?" The aforementioned girl nodded absently before putting away her things in the pouch that was laid on the grass. "Have you noticed that Professor Binns is always absent during Halloween?"

"He is the only Ghost who does not join his fellow Ghosts at the banquet nor is seen inside of the castle. We always have someone teaching us History of Magic on that day. Last year it was Lord Draben," Azure recalled. "But why the sudden question?"

"Eleonora died on a Halloween," Myrtle answered cautiously.

The older girl bit her lip and folded her hands in her lap. "I see."

"In my second year, our class had a very serious lecture on Wizard-borns because Fawley commented that Wizard-borns were useless, even more than Muggle-borns," Myrtle said. "You can imagine Professor Binns was very upset; his only niece was a Wizard-born."

"The Hufflepuff Fawley, huh…that insensitive twit!" Azure spat disdainfully. "Did Professor Binns told you about what was entailed for children if they were born without magic, before the 1918 Wizard-born Act?"

"He did," Myrtle confirmed, reminiscing Professor Binn's grim ethereal face as he explained that traditional Pure-blood families would kill any confirmed Wizard-borns. According to Minnie, the Greengrasses, Rosiers, Malfoys and Lestranges were included. "After that Act, if a child of wizards was born without magic, he or she would be given up for adoption in the Muggle world, which is an improvement compared to being subjected to," she cleared her throat. "Infanticide. However, there was also a custom practised among the old families that the child was to be treated like a house-elf; in other words, he or she could be subjected to punishments by the Lord of the house."

"Muggle-borns are mistreated, but Wizard-borns..." Azure seethed, balling her hands into fists. "Britain is so backwards compared to the rest of the world. And whose fault is that? The people who run our government: the Ministry of Magic!"

Myrtle nodded sadly. "When Professor Binns was alive, there was no such thing yet. Consequently, wizards and witches were not compulsively sent to Hogwarts. He was a self-taught Potioneer that served both Muggle and Wizard customers alike. Eleonora's parents had left her in his care when she was four years old. She was very sick because of the Black Plague."

Azure made a pondering noise before furrowing her eyebrows. "But who killed her and Professor Binns?"

"One of the Originals. This happened before the Vampire-Wizard Treaty."

Azure rose one of her fingers. "Not Lord Elijah; Professor Binns was a scholar and a poet, the kind that the elder Mikaelson tolerates the most when it comes to humans." A second finger. "And Lady Rebekah was very good friends with his frail niece."

"She would offer her blood and in turn, the Original fed her Vampire blood, which improved her health," Myrtle said. "They were as close as sisters."

A third finger appeared. "And Niklaus…"

"He possessed enough self-control to not tear Professor Binn's head off his shoulders whenever they met. Our Professor looks eerily like an older version of the Original Hunter," Myrtle replied. The truth was that he was Mikael's _doppelganger_. If he was two decades older and short-sighted, they could pass by twins.

A scowl appeared on Azure's features as she nearly spat, "Kol. The second most sadistic Vampire that has existed, tearing across Europe and butchering lots of people. It was because of him and his older brother Niklaus we had a _Dementor_ and an _Inferi_ crisis in the Middle Ages, for Merlin's sake!" There was a pause before she regained her breath, mismatched eyes narrowing. "And the reason he killed our Professor was male desires?"

"If a Mikaelson wants something of you, you don't ask why. You just obey," Myrtle answered cautiously, almost paraphrasing Professor Binns. "But sometimes, the pain of what comes after eats away your will until you're nothing but a shell of what you were."

Azure shook her head in understanding. "Eleanora took her own life after Kol killed Professor Binns?"

"He bit him first, then broke and tore off his arms and legs. He removed Professor Binn's heart from his chest and compelled Eleonora to be pliant while he drank from her and…" Myrtle bit her lip.

"…Sexually assaulted her," Azure completed, eyes ablaze with anger. "Whether they're from a different species, males tend to need to assert their dominance over the opposite gender, not in an exclusive sexual manner, although that is something that Vampires revel in because it helps with curbing their appetites," she said between gritted teeth. "He almost turned her, didn't he?"

"She refused the transition by slitting her own throat with a hair-pin, one of Rebekah's gifts to her…she bled out in seconds," Myrtle explained mournfully, her fingers rhythmically touching her wrist. "After Rebekah found out, she daggered her brother."

"I do hope that Kol remains inside of his coffin," Azure said menacingly before folding her arms. "Although it would be preferable to the world in general if he had been killed with a White Oak stake to the heart but of course, not; that family has a tradition of carting around their siblings."

"That does not apply to Rebekah anymore: she reunited with Stefan Salvatore," Myrtle pointed out. "No overprotective brothers around this time."

Azure slapped her laugh, laughing, "Klaus' powers, removed by a witch! Not just any witch, but Quetsyah, the Bennet Ancestress who became immortal long before the Mikaelsons turned into vampires."

Myrtle giggled. "Katherine Pierce also got what she deserved. As Grandpa used to say: the past always catches up with us."

"That manipulative seductress as a human servant…" Azure smiled mischievously. "Lady Tessa is quite the woman."

"She and Lord Elijah are a power couple," Myrtle remarked. "Like the Kurans."

"I bet they'll be married in less than one year," the Slytherin said with a grin. "Thank you for telling me, Myrtle. Sometimes, it is better to know the truth."

_"'__Any truth is better than indefinite doubt'," _Myrtle quoted, the words leaving her lips naturally. Like Azure, she loved Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's books. John Watson was fascinating, but so was his partner, the titular character and private detective Sherlock Holmes.

"_The Adventure of the Yellow Face_, page 960," Azure said after snapping her fingers. "This one is my favourite: 'You know a conjurer gets no credit when once he has explained his trick.'"

_"'__And if I show you too much of my method of working, you will come to the conclusion that I am a very ordinary individual after all',"_ Myrtle completed, biting into her lemon cookie. "_A Study in Scarlet_, 1887. Part 1, chapter four and page…33."

"_'__What one man can invent another can discover'._?"

Myrtle giggled. "Grandpa and Keane's favourite quote. From _The Adventure of the Dancing Men_. Page 525."

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** REVIEW, PLEASE!**


	22. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "Black Butler" and "The Vampire Diaries". **

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**Chapter Twenty-One: The Bridge Between Two Worlds**

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Being a Muggle-raised witch, Myrtle had learned from her pre-school teachers that the world was an extremely prejudiced place. So, when she had unfortunately met witches and wizards who thought highly of themselves because their blood was "pure", she had concluded that this new world was not that different from her own.

But some months inside of a school that did not prevent bullying – dishing out punishments like cleaning trophies or scrubbing cauldrons were hardly punishments in her eyes – had taught her that this world's prejudice ran higher than her own's.

_This world is no Neverland._ _It's a twisted Wonderland._

"That infuriating blonde fan-girl…" Azure growled before calming down, her anger at Travers's callous remarks from the previous day dissipating as she violently bit into her chocolate bar. "She and Fawley share the typical mindset of a traditionalist; for them, having magic is what automatically gives them the right to order others around. But those two must have short-term memory or something; half the English nobility and the Parliament _are_ Wizards-borns and Muggle-borns...the elites would never admit it though."

Myrtle blinked constantly as this new information sank in her mind. "Does this mean that your monarch is a Wizard-born?!"

"Were you expecting a different thing?" Azure asked rhetorically, a smug smile appearing on her face. "Magical blood is everywhere, Myrtle, including in the royal bloodlines. In fact, the 'White Queen' was if Sir Nicholas's words are to be accurate, a Muggle-born Sorted in Slytherin. The first and the only one until this day."

"A Slytherin?" Myrtle asked incredulously. "The one who married King Edward IV? Historically, her mother _was_ depicted as a sorceress, but..."

"When it's hearsay, facts are only half-true," Azure said vaguely. "You heard the name 'Aristocrats of Evil' before, right?"

"It is an old society connected to both of our worlds," Myrtle answered, remembering Minnie's explanation about the reclusive group of nobles whose leader, Earl Phantomhive, conducted investigations under the direct orders of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, a duty that extended to this day only the monarch they served was not the same.

The Earl of House Phantomhive was the "Bogey Man" for criminals. Since he never showed his face in public, the spread of all kinds of rumours was inevitable. For instance, the leader suffering from a severe case of dwarfism. Another was that he had been seen in the company of a tall, handsome man with black hair and a tailcoat in 1912. The photographer had suffered an "accident" after sending this picture to the newspapers, as well his instrument of work. The picture in question had burnt in a fire that fortunately did not claim any lives.

_Come to think of that, Minnie never revealed the Aristocrats' blood status…_

"Don't tell me..." Myrtle trailed, eyes widening at what Azure was implying. "Are they?"

"Some of them are," the Slytherin answered with a secretive grin. "Pure-bloods may mock them, but they would act like headless chickens without the Aristocrats' connections and their good-will to maintain the Statute of Secrecy. Another proof that makes me believe that one day, the barrier between worlds will disappear. This, of course, being a gradual process."

Myrtle sensed her inner Gryffindor and Hufflepuff jump with joy. "Do you really believe that?"

Azure gave her a beaming smile. "Yes, I certainly do!"

"But what would your family say?" The Ravenclaw asked worriedly, to which Azure replied with a wink.

"_Acceptance First and Foremost_."

Myrtle eyed her best friend with a puzzled look.

"The Ashlane's motto. That's who we are; one of the very few families who fought against the slavery of any magical being, acting as diplomats in times of war among centaurs, goblins, giants, you name it. We also had our share of Wizard-borns and they were not mistreated like the Blacks, the Selwyns, and the Fawleys. Acceptance also means to adjust to the circumstances, which my cousins managed to do well," Azure explained before biting her lip. "Some of the Ashlanes were also Aura Seers."

"Wizards and witches born with precognition, high levels of empathy and who can communicate with wands, or 'Wandspeak'."

"I would not rephrase it better," Azure said sadly before clearing her throat. "Ashlanes, along with other families, also acted as representatives for the International Confederation of Wizards and sought a better integration of Muggle-borns. They developed peace treaties with other magical creatures, learning their customs, all so that acceptance could be more than just a pipe dream!"

Myrtle's eyes bulged with surprise. "No wonder that Hornby and the Slytherins call you a 'Blood-traitor'."

"Blood-traitor," Azure laughed sardonically. "Stefan was right, you know? Blood is blood. Though, I have something in common with those twits: my loyalty to my family. Blacks are all about 'blood purity' but we? We Ashlanes are proud descendants of Helga Hufflepuff's first daughter Hildagarde and one of the most ancient magical families in Europe, like the Tranquilflows, the Greengrasses, the Princes, and of course the Malfoys," she snorted at the last name. "We have an ongoing enmity with that family because of the different standings on the issues of house-elves' slavery, for instance. In our house, the only elves that work there are three paid free elves, who have been taking care of me since I was pretty much a baby. They are better at parenting than my parents who are…_very_ committed to their jobs."

"What do your parents do?"

A wry smile formed on her companion's face. "They're Aurors."

"Aurors?" The Ravenclaw repeated, blinking owlishly; many of her classmates had voiced – quite loudly – their aspirations to become Aurors; since Aurors acted like enforcers of magic law across the world, they were respected as well feared for their skills. They also mediated the conflicts between both of the present wars and protected the Statute of Secrecy.

But the war was still raging on; be it Muggles or wizards, thousands of people had perished all over the world. It was awful.

One month ago, German soldiers had held a siege in a place called Stalingrad. Though, their influence had extended to European countries. The wedding had taken place in Lyon because half of France was under Nazi occupation and the city was located in the "le zone libre" – "Free Zone" – of France. Currently, Vichy was the new seat of the French government.

"The best of their generation. Fighting against Grindelwald and surviving his Army…a tale that many people did not live enough to tell," Azure added bitterly. "The number of casualties on both sides is a testament to that."

"Do Aurors have license to…eliminate their targets like Muggle intelligence agents?" Myrtle asked nervously. She did not like using the word "kill" but she knew that the MI5 and other foreign intelligence agencies used the same weapons as their enemy. Grandpa had done it; it was a consequence of living during "dark times".

"That task belongs to Hit-wizards," Azure replied with a shake of her head. "However, when the situation is too much dangerous, the Aurors can cast Unforgivables. Torquil Travers, the previous director of the DMLE, implemented that policy in April of 1927."

"'_Fight fire with fire'_," Myrtle recited to her friend, remembering Grandfather's words when he told her about his time as an agent after much insistence on her part.

A spy during the Great World War, he had been good friends with Sir Paul Henry Dukes, "The Man of a Hundred Faces". Grandpa's codename was "M.J" – in the beginning, the name was a private joke between him and Sir Dukes – which, coupled with his very feminine appearance, had purposely misled many people into believing he was a woman named "Mary-Jane".

It was perfect for a spy; deceiving was part of the job description. She later learned from his friends that Morgan James Finnigan's marksmanship skills were acknowledged as one of the best.

"I know, Myrtle. My paternal grandfather Solomon and his brother Johnathan captured many Grindelwald's followers in a joint operation with other Aurors outside of the British Isles. They had no compunctions about using questionable methods to interrogate the prisoners if that meant to end the war that Grindelwald had himself declared to both of our worlds," Azure said before sighing. "But even now with him going into hiding, many are certain that a new threat might happen soon."

"Another?" She asked after putting her thick glasses back on her face, the lenses now completely spotless.

The Slytherin nodded sharply. "When out of nowhere our fireplace bursts into flames and the face of one of my parents' co-workers appears, I know what will happen next..." She sniffed and wiped a tear that was about to fall from her left cheek. "Off they go to promote peacekeeping...leaving their only daughter with the elves. Look, I still love my parents. But family...my idea of family extends to the elves that live with me, a boy with a talent for music and a gentle girl who loves lemon-based sweets, bubble baths, and books." She went to where Myrtle was and tightly hugged her, burying her face in the shorter girl's neck. "I am happy to have met you, Myrtle."

"Me too," the petite whispered, reciprocating the hug. "I thought all of you Slytherins were mean, but you showed me that is not true."

Her friend chuckled before ending the hug, mismatched eyes locking with bespectacled blue ones. "Well…someone had to do it, right?"

Myrtle giggled and rested her forehead against the taller girl's.

As if on purpose, a melody began echoing throughout the Room of Necessities.

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	23. Chapter 22

**A/N: More foreshadowing in this chapter, chocolate, and finally, we get to see Myrtle's Patronus. I hope you enjoy it! **

**Warnings: student-teacher relationship. Hildagarde, the first daughter of Helga Hufflepuff, was attracted to a man who was twice her age. Azure thinks this attraction was just a plan of Salazar Slytherin because he was a very good manipulator.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", or "Black Butler", only my original characters. **

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**Chapter Twenty-Two: A Most Curious Cup and a Mysterious Chamber**

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Today's weather was cold, but not wholly unpleasant for people to be outside. Sitting in the Astronomy Tower's floor with Azure, Myrtle was looking at the object in her lap: a golden cup with two handles on each side, as well an engraved badger that identified it as something belonging to Hufflepuff.

"Is this…" Myrtle started to say, blinking owlishly at an object that she had read about in Madam Bagshot's book on the very short chapter dedicated to the Relics of Hogwarts. "Azure, _where_ did you find it?"

"Helga Hufflepuff had two children: Hildagarde, who married into the Ashlane family, and Hector, who adopted his wife's last name: Smith," her friend explained. "Well, there is this rich witch named Hepzibah Smith claiming she is from that Smith family. But since Smith is a very common name, the Goblins at Gringotts made tests and they discovered that this claim was false. Otherwise, Hepzibah would be able to access the Ashlane's wealth…as if that hag hasn't enough money for a lifetime," she snorted, which Myrtle supposed it had to do with the huge collection the old witch had boasted in the _Daily Prophet_ more than once.

"Putting things that way, wouldn't your family be treated as something like nobility?"

The taller girl scratched her temple. "One of the things I don't like about being a rich heiress is the fact I am supposed to inherit a fortune that extends at least a dozen of vaults. Not to count with the inheritance I am also eligible to receive from my mother's family."

_AT LEAST A DOZEN? _Myrtle repeated in her head, raising both eyebrows. "That rich, huh?"

"Sorry," Azure said apologetically. "It comes with belonging to an old family and old blood to boot and a motto that is not valued among the traditionalist or radical Pure-bloods."

Myrtle smiled. The Ashlane motto was a strange one, considering that this family was all-magical but respected in both worlds.

"To further prove our worth as legacies, my parents decided that my middle name would be Hildagarde, which is a homage to Helga Hufflepuff's first daughter," Azure added with clear pride in her voice. "When I was about seven years, I went to the library to read something and I found a secret passage that led to…"

"A basement!" Myrtle guessed, incapable of containing the enthusiasm out of her voice.

"A secret library, Myrtle! Full of books and scrolls, as well vials, sealed jars…all catalogued according to the place and date of acquisition! Some even dated to the 12th century!"

"And you found this!" Myrtle exclaimed, proudly presenting the cup to an invisible audience.

"A replica of the Ashlanes' most prized heirloom," Azure clarified, pointing to the golden cup. "I have another back at home, which is now lilac and orange."

"How very artistic of you," Myrtle remarked with a knowing smile.

Azure _loved_ changing objects' colours. She had supposedly turned the Great Hall's tables all colours in her second year. But what Myrtle could not get out of her mind was Fortescue's uniform and hair becoming an electric pink, and the Slytherin herself completely unaware of it until a Prefect docked points because of "improper clothing".

_The funniest thing was finding out that Fortescue hates pink, _Myrtle thought with a smirk, remembering her former Potions partner screaming when the caretaker's pink cat – yes, a _pink_ cat – decided to follow Fortescue because she smelled like catnip, probably the handiwork of Potter and Black.

Azure chuckled. "You flatter me, Twin-tails. Now, what about a bit of practice?"

"_Replicatio!_" The cup divided in two by itself, like a human cell during mitosis. Taking a deep breath, Myrtle pointed her wand at the cup and used the spell Grandma Saoirse was known for, turning gold into silver. Casting a third spell, the engraved badger became a dragon.

Her friend whistled, eyeing the new object with admiration. "I don't recognize that dragon species."

"It is a species of its own," Myrtle replied before gesturing to the engraved picture. "Meet the one and only…_Smaug_."

"From _The Hobbit_?"

Myrtle nodded and removed from her suitcase a plush toy of _Smaug _she had sewed during summer. "For your collection."

Azure beamed, accepting the plush doll and carefully wrapping it so it wouldn't get dirty. "Thank you, Myrtle! I was looking for something like this. Thank you, thank you! You're the best!"

The younger girl smiled, recalling the bookcase full of plush toys in Azure's bedroom, all properly tagged. Surprisingly, the bedroom was not azure as its owner's name. The walls' colours changed at will and the ceiling reflected the night sky like the ceiling in Hogwarts's Great Hall.

Now, the wardrobe…was big. No, it was huge. She had counted the outfits: exactly 250 pieces, not counting with the shoes which were in a different section. Most of them weren't even Azure's but belonged to the previous owners of the bedroom. Azure's "personal wardrobe" was very small and simple.

Besides trying on many outfits, they had read books and watched films between sips of hot chocolate. They had also eaten something sweet and crunchy called "popcorn". Whenever the film's characters began singing, they would sing or whistle.

And then, during Charms, she learnt that Whistling Charms existed; honestly, there were spells for everything.

_"Spells that we use with our wands are nothing more, but practical magic. The inventor of the Memory Charm, Madam Mnemone Radford, wrote in her book that Wizardkind is a lazy species; we think everything – even dying – can be solved with magic and forget our humble roots. She is partially correct. After all, our counterparts use science to solve their problems…sometimes with dire consequences for our planet." _

_In hindsight, Professor Tranquilflow is our Philosophy teacher, _she thought wryly before looking at the taller girl who was tilting her head.

"Was it something I said?"

"In a way," Myrtle answered mysteriously. "Back to your story…the real cup was where?"

"Inside of an old chest with the Hufflepuff crest and our family's motto. I also found an awfully big amount of letters that fit on the chest," Azure said, placing the wrapping inside of her pouch. "They had been shrunk, but with _Engorgio_, they returned to their normal size. You know that I like using this spell a lot."

Myrtle chuckled. Just the week before, she and Azure had gone to Hogsmeade. The snow had fallen on the grass, covering the green plains in a beautiful white landscape. They had skated on the frozen lake and ordered two mugs of hot chocolate inside of the _Three Broomsticks_.

After a quick trip to _Honeydukes_, Azure had used "_Engorgio_" on the sweets – _Funtom Chocolate_ was also being sold on the shop, much to Myrtle's surprise as that sweet was made by a Muggle company –, sharing them with Rubeus Hagrid, a reclusive third-year student who suffered from bullying because he had Giant blood in his veins.

While Myrtle had instantly sympathized with him, Azure opted to not just be sympathetic; she had punished the older boys who were harassing the Gryffindor before giving him a signed copy of the book _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. Not too much later, the other students would refer to them as a group. They were now known as "The Tricolour Trio". None of them liked that name though.

"And what did those letters say?"

"I found two stashes of letters. The first stash was written in a special invisible ink which I never got to read," Azure answered with a shrug. "Lady Hildagarde must have come up with an Invisible Ink Charm."

"The Charm probably answers to the sender and the recipient's magic," Myrtle theorized, fairly impressed. That kind of magic was incredibly difficult to learn.

Azure nodded. "The only thing I discovered about the identity of the author of the letters were initials: H.R. It could be a friend, lover or even a family member…"

_And the plot thickens,_ Myrtle added in her mind. "What about the second stack?"

"Those I could read; first of all, they were all properly dated and addressed to our unfriendly and highly selective Founder. And second, all were signed with the name and maiden surname of my Ancestress: Hildagarde Hufflepuff," she let out a laugh. "Imagine. Salazar Slytherin and Hildagarde Hufflepuff _together_".

Salazar Slytherin? _The_ Salazar Slytherin?

Myrtle's mouth opened agape like a fish. Only a novelist could come up with this kind of far-fetched history.

"She didn't stop mooning over him after leaving school," Azure went on. "Lady Hildagarde was only our age and he was already in his…forties."

Both girls made a disgusted face at that statement and pulled their tongues out: Myrtle's tongue was the colour of fresh grass and Azure's was blue.

"Wait, your tongue…is all blue!"

"Yours is a beautiful green," Azure countered with a wink. "Anyways, during her time at Hogwarts, while young Aura Seer Hildagarde Hufflepuff was studying spells or writing a detailed manual of Potions, she frequently interacted with Salazar Slytherin and he confided in her that he had built something inside of this school: the 'Chamber of Secrets'. Partially a place for Old Slytherin to conduct his experiments, it was also the lair of a creature he had come across in North-eastern Europe and had spent years taming it. Until this day, no one knows what kind of creature, but it was probably a big snake-"

"Excuse me, what?" Myrtle interrupted, bespectacled eyes widening with horror. The "Chamber of Secrets" was a known myth she had read about in the library and had given her nightmares to the point she had to take several Calming Draughts. "Slytherin hid a monster somewhere inside of this very same school?"

"Since nothing was ever proved." Azure shrugged and placed her hands behind her head. "It's probably just something to add to this institution's lore. However, Hildagarde's unhealthy obsession with Old Slytherin made her depict the so-supposed Chamber's entrance…like this," she said, unfolding a piece of crumpled parchment.

It was an old moving drawing signed "H. H." - Hildagarde Hufflepuff's initials. Its subject, a big round stone door with serpents in many directions, except for one last engraved snake near the lower "hinge". The snakes were crawling one step back as the eighth snake circled the round gate, nearly reaching the upper "hinge".

Like it was eating its tail.

"Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth; he could talk to snakes, which makes the emblem choice for his House pretty obvious," Azure continued with a roll of her eyes. "Those talents do not necessarily have to be a bad thing. What matters is how you use them."

Myrtle nodded in agreement. Despite Parseltongue being considered a feature unique to Dark Wizards, "Neutral" families like the Greengrasses were speakers.

"And by the way, we Ashlanes cannot talk to badgers, although it would be pretty neat to communicate with eagles…badgers, not so much."

Myrtle gave the Slytherin a pointed look. "Your _Patronus_ is a badger."

Azure wiggled her second finger left and right. "Not exactly a badger, Twin-tails. The proper name is _meles anakuma_ or _tanuki_."

"You're the one with the cute animal," Myrtle complained, thinking of the day Azure was helping her practice her _Patronus_. "I have a big ball of light."

"Is that so?" The other girl rose one amused eyebrow, wand already drawn out and facing the ceiling. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

Sighing, Myrtle thought of her "happy memory" – Azure and Myrtle waltzing – and did the same. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

Out of the two wands, two white silhouettes sprang forth, respectively reshaping into a _tanuki _and a small duckling. The former jumped in the air until it decided to rest on its owner's shoulder who placed one finger under its chin. The latter kept staring at Myrtle.

"A…duck?" Myrtle said with disbelief, pointing her finger at the _Patronus_ that gave her a dry look before it began walking away.

"Oh, just look at that cutie!" Azure cooed at the duckling that quacked once, clearly pleased with the compliment. "But one day who knows, it might evolve..."

Myrtle knew she was referring to the _Tale of the Ugly Duckling_. However, the duck would forever be a duck. "I doubt it."

_Patronuses_ were similar to their owners; a plain duckling couldn't suit her more.

"You're wrong," the older girl countered. "It just needs a little love."

As if on purpose, the Japanese badger _Patronus_ jumped off Azure's shoulder and began nuzzling Myrtle's face, making her smile. The duckling _Patronus _reluctantly approached the younger witch before quacking once.

_"Get a move on, or you will never know, silly!"_

At the sound of a voice that sounded exactly like her when she was little, Myrtle began wondering if a _Patronus_ could talk.

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	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: In this chapter, we see a different side of Azure, Riddle and for the first time, our favourite flute-bearer, Rubeus Hagrid. Lots of foreshadowing as well! **

**Warnings: Myrtle's self-harming (implied) and suicide attempts. Myrtle also realizes she likes Azure as more than just a close friend. She thinks it is a one-sided kind of thing. Their closeness is almost on a romantic-level by this point.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", or the magical creatures mentioned, only my original characters.**

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**Chapter Twenty-Three: Riddles and Secrets**

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It was an unforgivable chilly day, the kind that Myrtle preferred to spend inside of the Common Room and sitting in front of the fireplace with a warm blanket and a mug of steaming hot chocolate. But, as Myrtle had noted two weeks after meeting Azure, all days were reason enough for the Slytherin to smile like an idiot. This year, the low temperatures had come earlier than usual, which gave Azure the perfect excuse to practice spells and punish those who had been unfair towards Myrtle, namely Olive Hornby.

"Azure!" Myrtle cried in alarm. Her bully's robes were on fire, courtesy of the _Incendio_ cast by her best friend. "Isn't that too much?"

Azure shook her head, wand at her side. "Hornby has yet to learn her lesson. She never had the chance to know the pain you went through because of her until now. So, no. This is not too much."

Her overprotectiveness was as comforting as it was disturbing. Azure had a vindictive side; some days before, Myrtle had left her usual bathroom crying, only for the older girl to confront her, arms crossed and mismatched eyes glimmering with something sinister. Some part of her unconscious believed that Azure would avenge Myrtle for what had been done to her…

Torturing the entire classroom until she discovered the true culprit behind her friend's pain?

Of course not. Azure's threat didn't mean she would cast the _Cruciatus_ in her classmates. On the contrary, the taller girl did not wish such pain on anyone…except maybe a certain Prefect.

But after Myrtle had finally admitted the reason for her gloomy behaviour, Azure had proclaimed it was due time that Olive Hornby learned about _karma_.

"HELP MEEE!"

"London Bridge is falling…falling, falling…" Azure sang softly as Myrtle looked in morbid fascination as the blonde struggled to take off her clothes, the horror plastered on her face as the flames ate the hem of her skirt and burnt her skin. "London Bridge is falling, my fair Olive…"

"_Finite,_" a familiar dry voice intoned, cutting into the air like a knife.

Myrtle stood in front of a pillar, all the too much mortified to open her mouth as she took in the scene: a trembling Hornby noticing with relief that the spell had not harmed her before pointing a manicured finger at Azure, whose eyes were focused on the newcomer. She held her breath, sensing the oncoming death match between Azure and Tom Riddle, the latter nicknamed by the former as the "Perfect Prefect" or, when Azure was in a very sour mood, "the twit".

"50 points from Slytherin," he said coolly, his wand placed threateningly on the older girl's chin. "This time, there will be more than just a weekly punishment, Ashlane."

"Conjured flames are only real if the caster wishes it, Riddle," Azure reminded flippantly. So, Hornby's well-being was never in danger in the first place. "This is Charms beginners' level Laws."

But the damage was already done; the frightened Olive Hornby walked away from the scene, holding her shirt and gymslip. Riddle pulled her best friend by the arm who struggled to break away from his vice-like grip, both of them striding along the corridor.

Finding herself alone, Myrtle began to think about what had just happened.

Azure had never hurt another student with her magic. Well, except that one time with Myrtle's former Potions partner, Lorena Fortescue, the self-proclaimed number one admirer of Tom Riddle and also the most irritating person Myrtle had met after that Olive Hornby.

Myrtle could not see why everyone fawned over the dark-haired. Yes, he was handsome – "a fine example of a male specimen", as Aria had once described – but he was…_cold_. His well-sculpted face and body structure, the charismatic and imposing air that had won over students and Professors…there was almost no girl who didn't comment on his grades or his gentleman personality, which according to Fortescue, only made him more attractive.

Whenever they saw Riddle's "fan club" approaching them, Azure would grab Myrtle's hand and lead her away from the giggling and the swooning, only stopping when they reached their usual spots. Sometimes Hagrid tagged along and played his flute, preventing their friend from losing her temper with Tom Riddle's female admirers, namely Fortescue, who had chastised Azure lots of times for acting too insolently towards her "beloved Thomas".

This usually meant a quiet Azure and a quiet Azure equalled an Azure who plotted and plotted the "proper punishment" before executing it. She was a bully to other bullies.

But one Friday afternoon in November, Fortescue had violently pushed Myrtle into the ground before beginning to choke her with her hands. Azure had thrown the blonde into a pillar with wandless magic and consequently, Fortescue had spent the entire month in the Hospital Wing, waiting for her broken ribs and vertebra to heal.

Fortunately, the girl's spine was still intact.

However, she couldn't remember why she had attacked Myrtle when her only intention was to push her and not throwing her to the ground and choke her.

As for Azure, her short-fuse temper had gotten her hours of detention with Riddle she never discussed with Myrtle no matter how many times the Ravenclaw insisted.

It was like Azure had been forbidden from talking about it. Why?

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Myrtle cut a piece of beef with her knife, using the fork to scoop some rice to go with it before eating it.

Despite being on her customary isolated corner of the Gryffindor table, the same spot used by the "Tricoloured Trio" composed by a snake, an eagle and a lion - or as Slytherins would say, "the Blood-traitor", "the Mudblood" and "the Half-breed", she was not deaf; she could perfectly hear the voices of the nearby students eagerly serving themselves with mashed potatoes, salads and roasted beef, fish, pasta or rice, commenting about the new Quidditch season or more serious things like the capture of another Grindelwald fanatic.

The sound of quick strides made her look up from her plate, eyes widening behind the spectacles at the sight: Azure's skin colour was an unhealthy pale white and the arms seemed to have been reduced to bone, which was so unlike the slightly tanned skin and the athletic build the younger girl remembered from last year. Also, the black mascara under the mismatched eyes…wait, that can't be right; Azure hated wearing any kind of makeup!

Then, a more attentive look told her that the "mascara" was simply the results of prolonged insomnia. Azure looked like a panda, for St. Patrick's sake! How could that idiot allow things to reach this point?

_That's it; that secretive girl will hear from me, oh she will! _

Fifteen minutes later, the students were helping themselves with some fruits, sherbets and ice creams. Myrtle looked worriedly at her friend who was slowly biting into her third apple between sips of warm tea. After chocolate, apples were Azure's favourite food.

But what she loved the most was baking _tarte tartin_ \- a variation of an apple pie created in France that had quickly gained popularity in a few years - for them and the kitchens' elves. It had also served as a birthday cake on Myrtle's last birthday.

While Hagrid did not quite share the sentiment because he preferred tangerines, he never denied a piece of that particularly freshly-baked pastry, and neither did Myrtle.

_Don't get distracted, _the Ravenclaw admonished herself. _Take a deep breath. Channel your Gryffindor courage. You can do this. Just ask her, it's easy!_

The raven-haired opened her mouth but closed it when Hagrid spoke, his voice audible for the trio, but not in a way that the onlookers not too far from them would hear, "Sure yeh're eatin' properly?" Tall in height and of a strong build, the half-Giant towered over Myrtle and was one head taller than Azure. He had scraggly dark brown hair and bangs that almost covered his eyes, facial hair and beetle-black eyes.

"Eating chocolate is enough to make me walk through the day," Azure said with a fake smile after he cut a slice for her. "Thank you."

_Why aren't you being sincere with us? We are your best friends!_ Myrtle stabbed into her smaller slice of lemon chiffon pie, her appetite vanishing as her unvoiced worries over the Slytherin grew.

"I almost forgot: apples. Lots of apples, tea and water."

_Nonetheless, that diet is very unhealthy, idiot!_ Myrtle rebuked mentally to her friend.

"Don' be gutted if yeh' become like Prince: skinny as a _B__owtruckle_," Hagrid remarked.

Myrtle glanced at the aforementioned girl, who was adding a purple powder to her teacup. She automatically identified it as purple _reishi_, a species of fungus known for its health benefits. One of the few Slytherins who didn't express her dislike for Muggle-borns, Eileen Prince preferred to ignore their existence, most of the times, though never opposing to working with them. Myrtle sat next to her in Ancient Runes class, and they had done assignments together several times. They were neither friends nor enemies, which suited them just fine.

_It's better than being attacked on the corridors, _she thought, clenching her fists under the table. A flash of a second-year Myrtle being shoved against the wall by a fifth-year Slytherin appeared on her mind. Professor Tranquilflow's cryptic warning to her before she left the classroom just two hours ago echoed in her mind:

_"A shadow looms over these walls, Miss Warren. Soon, all of us will sense its effects."_

_ I wish I knew what "shadow" she is talking about. __Our Divination Professor never gives a straight answer...it must be a Seer thing._

"What about you, Ru?" Azure retorted with raised eyebrows. "Are you thinking of permanently transfiguring yourself into an _Erumpent_?"

Hagrid replied with a stare, beetle-black eyes never breaking contact with the Slytherin. They remained like this for a few seconds until Azure covered her mouth. Two seconds later, both began to laugh. Myrtle half-smiled at her best friends.

How ironic that two years ago she had almost given up everything due to the constant bullying done by Slytherin and to her surprise, a Slytherin would offer her friendship…

Suddenly, thoughts of Azure, her kind and also vindictive personality, her courage and sense of justice began filling her head. She let herself dive in her memories, remembering the strange girl from Slytherin, the girl who had taught her so much and encouraged her to continue attending school.

Myrtle Elizabeth Warren was irrevocably in love with Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane.

But did the latter feel the same?

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**Review!**


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N: We are now back to Azure's POV. Lots of references for Micchi, because I know he loves them. This chapter includes the guest appearances of our lovable foursome from "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them". I wrote this chapter long before the second movie came out, so I was shocked when I watched Queenie join Grindelwald on her free will. But I am a sucker for happy endings, so Queenie and Jacob are a happy couple in my story, despite lots of things happened before they tied the knot...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "FBWTFT" and "Black Butler". Only my OCs: Azure, Great-aunt Gwen, etc.**

**Trigger warnings: Eris' evilness and Tom Riddle being a sadistic obsessive bastard who should be in an asylum. If you have read the sixth book, you know who is "this girl". Hint: A.B.**

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**Chapter Twenty-Four: A Different Christmas Eve**

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No action came with no consequences and Olive Hornby's incident had serious repercussions; after being brought to the Headmaster's office, Azure had been suspended for three weeks, the first half beginning just a few days before the Christmas Holidays. She had returned to the Ashlane Manor earlier than the previous years, which gave her the chance to tell Tingly and the cooks about her time in school since her parents were too busy between chasing/killing Grindelwald's followers or finding a petty thief called Fletcher who had the penchant of stealing magical artefacts.

On 20th December, she was informed that the Christmas Party of this year would take place in the Manor, which did not surprise her much; although most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families hated the Ashlanes for their "Blood-traitor ways", they felt some grudging respect – they would never admit it – for them because Ashlanes had a vast network of contacts in the Muggle world and the supernatural community.

The fact that there would be a Christmas Party at the Manor also meant that the Hufflepuff Cup could be displayed. Accordingly, in the morning of the 24th, their family heirloom was placed by her mother right above the fireplace's living room and under the Ashlane's family crest's portrait.

By seven in the afternoon, the drawing-room was already full of wizards and witches who were either conservative – Lord Black, Lord Malfoy, the current leader of the Dark Alliance, Lord Black-Monfay, Lord Rosier, Lord Avery – or mildly progressive like Lord Greengrass, Lord Potter, Lord Bones, Lord Longbottom and Madam Shacklebolt. In both cases, they were accompanied by their respective sons or daughters.

As such, she had to don her mask of perfect Pure-blood Heiress.

This night, she was not "Azure" but the future Lady Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane, currently a very bored Heiress who delicately ate chocolate cookies while her parents were busy greeting the guests. Until a plump figure approached her with a simpering voice that instantly reminded her of Dolores Umbridge.

It was no one else than Hepzibah Smith, Lord Arthur Fawley's widowed maternal aunt and an avid collector of magical artefacts. Like always, her puffy cheeks were full of rouge and many golden rings adorned her fingers. The old witch's hairdo for this occasion briefly reminded Azure of Marie Antoinette. Its garish red colour definitely shocked with her fuchsia-coloured silk robes. She was also wearing a very exclusive pink pearl necklace and purple mascara, which only enhanced her squirrel-like brown eyes that shone with greed whenever the hag looked at the Hufflepuff Cup.

The Cup. The object that was Madam Smith's new obsession.

Some years ago, the hag had arrived by Floo Powder to "chat". The topic: selling some family items for her "collection"; every time, she had received a low fat "no" – Liam Ashlane's "nos" were usually enough to make the person give up but that hag did not accept a "no".

It took all her self-control to not cast an embarrassing spell on the witch when the other started pinching her cheeks and complimenting her clothing that was so "appropriate for a girl of her noble station".

Truth to be told, Azure's clothes made her feel like a fish out of water: the knee-length amber coloured dress with an embroidered badger whose cut that showed her still growing female "assets" was as uncomfortable as her black high heels. A black cloak with golden linings rested on her shoulders. For the final touch, her hair had been purposely styled for the occasion, some curls held together by a Goblin-made hairpin.

Altogether, she looked like a living portrait of Lady Hildagarde Ashlane (née Hufflepuff). Dying at the premature age of 28 years old, she had left behind a legacy and many letters that spoke of many things, such as a child born from two bloodlines: hers and Slytherin's.

A child fathered by the Serpent-tongue himself. Truth or pure lunacy?

_No one knows until this day, _she replied inwardly, eating her cookie. Seeing that no one would notice her until dinner time, she went to her bedroom and locked the door before removing an old album from one of the bookcases. Opening it randomly, she searched for a certain page and looked at the picture that was being used as a bookmark. It depicted a smiling woman and a stern-looking boy with an eyepatch. The photograph had been taken in Paris.

Smiling softly, she traced the face of the former and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Aunt Gwen."

* * *

Azure's mood improved after dinner; she met Ru's idol and was offered three signed copies of his new book. He was accompanied by three people who she recognized from one photograph on the last page of his first book: a lady with straight brown hair cut in a bobcat style wearing a golden ring on her finger, a beautiful blonde wearing a pale pink dress, a clear contrast to her sister's reddish-brown dress with silver embroidery. She was also holding hands with a portly man, a pair of golden rings glinting in their respective fingers.

The two ladies introduced themselves as Porpentina "Tina" Goldstein-Scamander and Queenie Goldstein-Kowalski. The more solemn Porpentina was the beloved wife of Mr Newt Scamander and the free-spirited Queenie was married to Mr Jacob Kowalski. Azure quickly befriended Mr Jacob, finding common interests in sweets baking.

Mrs Goldstein-Kowalski – Queenie, as she preferred being called – was very proud of the fact that her husband's clientele no longer included "No-Majs" but many wizards and witches from the American magical community.

If everything went well, the _"Kowalski Quality Baked Goods"_ would be welcomed in London. The high-society witches had already expressed their interest and support, like Lady Fawley, Madam Bulstrode, Madam Marchbanks and Lord Crouch's wife. Mr Kowalski had already a location planned out not too far from New Scotland Yard. The store would open only happen after the war.

"It's all about the happiness in the customers' faces," he explained to Azure, blushing when Queenie's hand took his, blue eyes adoringly looking at her husband. "For me, that is what is really important."

"I wish you the best of luck," she said to him before winking. "In fact, we might have some 'Liquid Luck' stored somewhere."

"Sorry, kiddo. I want to succeed by my own merits," the older man chuckled good-naturedly. "That's how I opened my first bakery!"

He sent a knowing grin to Mr Scamander who scratched his cheek in return.

"Yes, I suppose so."

Mrs Scamander hid her smile at her husband's answer by sipping her beverage_._

_What exactly had happened between them?_

"You are an Aura Seer," Miss Queenie suddenly spoke.

Azure nodded. "I am but I don't plan living half a regular human's lifespan."

The blonde shook her head sadly. "Fear, unrest and pain...oh you poor girl, you have been _Obliviated_ after constant _Legilimency_ for years," the witch concluded, one hand gently touching the fifteen-year old's cheek. "So young and with a mind already this damaged. I can feel it...this _Legilimens _is incredibly adept. Please be careful…for when people are hurting, they are the easiest to read."

Azure opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came of it. She started coughing, blood slowly running down her nose and mouth, as well from several crimson cuts on her arms, collarbone and legs.

_A Curse. A powerful one…but who…wait, who is that?_

The last thing she remembered seeing before finally falling into the sofa, right into a horrified Queenie's lap, was the silhouette of a hunched man swiftly taking the Cup from the fireplace.

In the morning, she had woken up in her bed with a headache and a tray of food next to her. A book entitled _Protection Charm Your Mind: A Practical Guide to Counter Legilimency _could be seen on her bedside table and on top of it, a note:

_"It's better to prevent than remedy!" _

She looked at the _"Q"_ signature under it and smiled.

* * *

In Tartarus, the goddess of Discord and personification of everything that was evil – including the vilest acts that were not only murder but also all types of assault – was taking a foamy bath while doing her favourite hobby: watching humans through her orbs. After quickly losing interest in the Soulkeeper's boring routine, she summoned a second orb that depicted her champion.

She watched him standing against the door of the room where the youngest orphans did their naps. He was there because he had heard a melody while walking the corridors, simultaneously avoiding the sharp gaze of the matron who doing the laundry. Inside of the room, there were half a dozen cradles with sleeping children and a younger girl playing her harmonica slightly bending over one of them.

Eris' smirk widened as he approached the younger human, his fingers touching the girl's cheek, dark brown eyes boring into her fear-filled ones. The harmonica fell from her hand, hitting the floor. His hand slowly moved down her neck, the thumb applying a bit of pressure. She then let out a muted whimper and remembered a dark cave, her unmoving body, a snake curling around her fragile throat and a cold kiss on her lips followed by a bite...

On that day, this girl had become a Lost Child. However, she had retained her innocence, something that he wanted to ruin. Eris was perfectly familiarized with this kind of desires; pretty much the entirety of her half-siblings had been conceived through that way.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was the product of a Love Potion. Consequently, he could covet, lust and obsess, but feel genuine love? Never.

"All of the Lost Child will belong to you soon," she intoned smoothly, eyes looking at the new scenes: the boy's assault on the girl's mind stopping because of the sudden entrance of a young woman. She threw a glare at the younger boy whose free hand curled into a fist before he faced the helper. Then, he left the room, purposefully bumping into the other's shoulder.

"Only it will not be today," Eris declared, taking a sip of ambrosia. "No matter. There's still plenty of time."

Dislike began to show on the Goddess's beautiful face as the helper – a threat that had yet to be obliterated – went to where the frozen girl was, hands desperately cupping her cheek before she hugged her fiercely, causing the trance-look to disappear.

"Clever move, _Hecate_," she hissed, lips contorting into a sneer at the disgustingly comforting scene inside of the orb. She turned it into ice, long fingers gripping the orb until it broke in little pieces. "My turn."

Eris was indeed a lost cause for anger management.

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**Review, please!**


	26. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "Fantastic Beasts" and "Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler", only my original characters.**

**A/N: A thank you very much to my two reviewers, Micchi-chan and Rajani-chan.**

**Warnings: past suicide attempt (Myrtle)**

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**Chapter Twenty-Five: A Missing Cup, an _Obliviated_ Elf and a Howler**

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The meeting with Miss Queenie had been a different but not unpleasant experience; contrary to most _Legilimens_, Azure had a feeling that the older witch's _Legilimency_ had never been used to harm another.

According to Professor Merrythought, most _Legilimens_ usually found their way into the Dark Arts. Morgana le Fay, Monfay's Ancestress had been one as well, despite also being recorded as a powerful Healer, capable of balancing her knowledge of Light and Dark magic, which was something that many wizards and witches had tried without success.

To be completely exposed before someone and have his or her mind fashioned to that someone's wishes…it gave her the shivers.

On the bright side, she knew _Legilimens_ who hardly would be tempted by the darker side of magic: Professor Dumbledore and Professor Tranquilflow. Eye contact was fundamental for _Legilimency_; to the skilled ones, just a single look was enough to read anyone's intentions.

Her father Liam was also a _Legilimens_. One of the best Aurors of his generation after Abraham and Leah Moody, he was also a very capable _Occlumens_, the same as his wife Eurelie who was born with telepathy, which was slightly different from a _Legilimens_.

In spite of having developed magic of her own – telekinesis –, Azure's mental shields were "tremendously disgraceful", to quote Father's words. Senior Auror Liam Ashlane was nothing if blunt; he did not beat around the bush.

And yet, she was natural-born immune to the _Imperius_, which was rarer than building resistance to it in just a few years. She knew it because two different people had failed to cast it on her. The first time had happened when she was a child shy of nine and the second time had occurred four years later in the school's library.

But the one that had left its strongest mark was the first.

_"Güten tag, Fraulëin…"_ the polite voice of the Dark Wizard named Gellert Grindelwald instantly crept back to her mind as she also recalled that evening when one of her parents' co-workers had pretty much abducted her from the Manor after asking her to find a Dark Wizard – not disclosing who – using Aura Sight.

She still remembered the silvery blond middle-aged man's Aura, the dark power oozing from his strange wand, the green light hitting the Auror shortly after the former's disastrous attempt to stun the Revolutionary, her body trembling as she put up a powerful mental shield – unconsciously – the second those unfathomable blue eyes fell on her…

That was the first time she had came across a Dark Aura. Auras were coloured pure white, but occasionally thin rings of a different colour around it appeared, depending on the kind of spell that had been used: memory-altering charms were dark grey (pale green if it was an _Obliviate_) while curses were identified by an indigo coloured ring. If someone had consumed _Amortentia_, the result was a pale pink haze. _Confundus_ was of a faint yellow – Johnson had this – and so on.

The Dark Aura was a different story; an Aura whose colour was dark or just black, it was something that Aura Seers avoided at any cost because it could harm their magical core. These particular Auras were found in human beings that had murdered before or at least intended to. To Young Aura Seers like her, it was as if they were choking in a pool of negative feelings. They also became incapable of moving a muscle, making them sitting ducks for people with nefarious intentions.

And, years later, she had met Riddle, quickly realizing that she could not stand being in the same space as Hogwarts's most promising student, which had lead to hostility. She never hid it, and neither did he.

Alas, she had projected this hostility on the other students, like Lorena Fortescue and Olive Hornby. However, if Olive Hornby's "attack" was plain retribution for all the times she made Myrtle cry – and nearly kill herself, she grimly added to herself –, Lorena Fortescue's had been different because she had Seen a thick blue ring surrounding her fellow Housemate's Aura.

That girl may be irritating but she didn't deserve to end up in a vegetative state because of over-exposure to strong dark magic like what happened five years ago in the ICW's headquarters. So, to protect both Myrtle and Fortescue, Azure would telepathically throw the blonde to the nearest pillar of the Clock Tower Courtyard, making the indigo ring slowly vanish until it was no more...

Shaking her head, she wiped the small beads of sweat on her forehead and looked at the fireplace, focusing on a space between two porcelain jars. _The Hufflepuff Cup is gone. How? When? Who? _

"Tingly, do you know where is the Hufflepuff Cup?" She asked, finding the elf on the upper corner of the lounge room. "It's made of gold, small..."

Tingly stopped dusting and floated to where she was, head tilted in confusion. "The Cup?"

"During Christmas, Mother displayed it," Azure supplied, the events of the Christmas Party slowly replaying in her mind. Before she lost consciousness due to some strange curse, she had seen a…silhouette of a hunched man?

"Tingly doesn't know. Tingly does not remember seeing a cup made of gold in this house. In any division."

"Then...may I See your Aura?" Tingly nodded once. Azure stretched out her hand and locked her eyes with Tingly's. The elf's body became a silhouette, whose fading light green vapour reminded her of a halo, confirming her suspicions: the thief had _Obliviated _Tingly and replaced the Cup with a fake that had probably vanished recently because the Cup – she knew it was a fake, because the Aura around it was not the same from when she first found it – was still in the house after the 26th of December.

Naturally, the first culprit that had come to mind was Fletcher.

How could that petty thief manage to pass through the wards spread across and outside of the Manor? Unless one of the guests was also part of the scheme…an inside job. It had to be that.

But why didn't her parents say anything? Wait, could it be they already knew what happened and were tracking the culprit down, preferring to keep her in the dark as usual?

_Aurors and their secrecy, _she added wryly in her mind. "Thank you very much, Tingly," she said to the elf, who flapped her ears before resuming her task.

Returning to the couch, she began remembering a certain Christmas Eve in Malfoy Manor. It sickened her that Pure-bloods were legally allowed to punish their servants in any way how they saw fit because elves and halflings were not "human" by their standards. And they said Muggles were the savages.

_What a bunch of hypocrites_;_ slavery is slavery,_ _s_he thought angrily before picking up Uncle Chris's pocket-watch from the table.

Despite being born in a different time, he and his sister had wished for a world when difference would be slowly accepted into their magical society. But not everyone was like the families that made up the Dark Alliance. The ongoing research of methods for Wizard-borns to recover their magical power through a combination of Healing magic and Potions would never be what was today without the right people to support it, such as the current Lord Greengrass, Mr Talkalot, Lord Arsenius Prince...

Smiling, she picked up the sketchbook that was next to her, fingers defoliating its pages until she paused, finding a sketch of very special jewellery. _If this protects Vampires from burning out in the sun, why not use the same process for Werewolves?_

Tingly's sudden voice stopped the girl's musings. "Azurelia?" The elf was standing in front of her, the usual serene look replaced by something more anxious.

Suddenly, an owl carrying a letter entered through the lounge room's open window and found a temporary perch in the fireplace. Azure retrieved it and offered the owl some crumbs of bread she had been saving for the occasion. The owl ate the crumbs and flew away, back to his owner.

She could not help but groan; the letter was not a typical letter but a Howler. Specifically a Howler from Hogwarts Headmaster Armando Dippet. Opening it, she let the Howler begin its lecture, an amplified voice filling the living room. All seemed reasonable so far; she had to write an apology letter to the traumatized Olive Hornby – not a problem, as she had already finished it…

Until the Howler spoke of a different topic: from 3rd of January, she was to return to school, although this didn't mean that her suspension had been lifted. It was the exact opposite.

_Wait, what?!_

Her eyes widened as the booming voice carried on: during the remaining two weeks of her suspension, she would be forbidden of attending classes. Confined to the Slytherin's Common Room, she would take her meals alone in her dormitory which would be brought by a kitchen elf. The only way for her to leave the Common Room was if she was accompanied by her House's female Prefects.

_Great, I got either the future Lady Black, Malfoy's sister or Malinda Crabbe_.

On a final note, her fifth year male House Prefect – the twit, she mentally corrected the Howler – would see to that she followed the rules, applying punishments if necessary. If she stepped out of line again, expulsion was definite.

The Howler ended the letter with _"Best greetings, Armando Lucas Dippet"_ before falling on the table. Azure went straight to the kitchen and began heating some water. She needed something sweet and hot to help her forget what she had just heard.

"Missus Azure!" Greeted Blinky with a strong hug, followed by Dimply.

Returning the hug, she asked, "What's the lunch for today?"

"Master Chris's recipe he recorded in his book when he travelled to Peru!" Dimply replied excitedly with a flap of his ears. Released from duty after the family they served – the House of Rosefield – dismissed the entire staff two centuries ago, the twins were small in size but much older than they appeared. They were teenagers in elf's terms. An adult elf had 400 years old, just a little younger than a young centaur. If Dimply and Blinky were _only_ 235 years old, Tingly was 830 years old,

The elderly elf could also be very scary when she was in her "disciplinary mode". If Azure made a mistake, Tingly would hit her head with a fan; after all, the elf was not only her nanny but also her tutor on certain…supernatural matters.

* * *

_ "Very ancient creatures have been known to walk this world and sometimes interact with humans in times of utter desperation…creatures that are cunning, greedy, powerful and indomitable," Tingly explained. "When a human makes a contract, a bond is formed…an unbreakable bond between the human and his servant from Hell." _

_"A servant from Hell? Do you mean a demon, Tingly?" Curiously asked the six-year-old Azure to Tingly, who showed her charge a picture of a miserable-looking man and a fiery and dark humanoid creature with gleaming eyes at a crossroads. She could not see its teeth, but the eyes told her the creature was amused. They were also shaking hands in the semblance of an ordinary deal between two acquaintances or a buyer and a seller. Under the picture, two words could be read. "_'Faustian Contract_?'"_

_"The proof of a contract between a human and a demon. The toll required for a demon's servitude is its new Master's Soul," Tingly drew with her finger a pentagram with strange symbols inside. "Both Master and demon possess it, hiding it from sight, lest for people to discover and attempt something they would regret immediately after."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because the Soul of a contracted human belongs to the demon alone..."_

* * *

The sound of the hot water boiling brought her back to reality. Carefully, she poured it on two mugs, Azure added the chocolate powder and tea leaves in the respective mug. Then, she returned to the living room and offered the first mug to Tingly.

"To read is good, but the theory can only give you that much, Azurelia."

"I know, Tingly…" she said, recalling that madman's face and the symbol he wore around his neck. "But I fear this _Legilimens_ wants something from me than just my powers."

Sipping from her mug, Azure sat on the sofa and began thinking about her last dream: herself standing in the dark and watching a back of a male figure. Once the figure had turned around, she was incapable of turning her eyes away from his cold ones, which were not looking at her eyes, but _through_ them, as if they could see every thought, memory and emotion.

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** Please, review!**


	27. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "Black Butler" only my OC's. **

**A/N: This chapter introduces two secondary villains who the sixth book and the movie mention to be part of "Riddle's gang". I suspect they became Death Eaters afterwards but as of this moment, Riddle does not have the Death Eaters. He has his "Knights". Cyril Avery is one of Riddle's closest people and a nephew of that creepy Aleistor Chamber, aka the Viscount of Druitt, from "Black Butler". Reynard Lestrange is half-French, like Azure, and they hate each other.**

**Trigger warnings: harassment (borderline sexual)**

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**Chapter Twenty-Six: Exposure and Threats**

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Although she was in her fourth year, she had the privilege of sleeping in the same dormitory she would use if she had not repeated the year in the first place, something she was privately thankful for that; one of the girls had quite the reputation among the witches of Slytherin House.

Since today was the beginning of the second part of her punishment, there were no students inside of the dormitory. Sat in her bed with knees pulled up, Azure was reading an old Herbology book, her friends' Christmas gifts safely inside of her drawer: ice-rolling skates for Myrtle and a signed copy of Mr Scamander's new book for Ru.

_"__It is most notable for its pulsating and squirming nature and its unique defence mechanism," _she glanced at the illustration of a _mimbulus mimbletonia_. "_When prodded, Stinksap is squirted out from the boils on the surface of the plant. Stinksap is a non-poisonous liquid and is described as dark green and smelling like 'rancid manure'."_

Perhaps Sprout could tell her more about this cactus…

That one was like a walking Herbology encyclopaedia. Unafraid of "getting your hands dirty", Pomona Sprout usually received "E" and "O" in assignments while Azure, her partner, got low "A's".

To put it simply, Azure had never been the best student of her year. She did not want to.

"The less the things in common with the twit, the best," she muttered. Leaving the bed, she prepared to remove her pyjamas' shirt when she halted; someone had entered the dormitory without knocking and it was not a girl but a boy her age. He was also leaning lazily against the door like he was not invading someone's privacy.

She instantly recognized the caramel-brown eyes, short blond hair and the malicious smirk: Cyril Aleistor Chamber Avery, fifth-year Slytherin and part of Riddle's group of "dedicated friends", despite she was sure Riddle did not feel anything for them.

Until this day, she had never allowed herself to be alone in a room or a wall with Avery. One of the most physically attractive wizards in Hogwarts, as well someone who could seduce girls – any blood status or House – in few seconds, Avery was unashamed of undressing the opposite gender with his eyes, whether they were young or not.

She had seen him doing this at her mother during the Christmas Party and it had taken her _a lot_ of willpower to not hex his male parts.

"I should have expected that after New Year's, you would lose your last modicum of decency. Did Riddle put you up to this?" Azure's eyes stared at the taller boy whose malicious smirk widened as he looked at her up and down.

"Come down to the Common Room and don't take too long," he drawled, smoothly changing the subject. "You wouldn't want My Lord to be kept waiting, now would you?"

Her wand – _Dagan _– floated to her hand and she instantly pointed it at him, mismatched eyes narrowed. "If that bloody Lord of yours wants to see me, he should not send his errand boy. Or perhaps his boy toy?" She added in a mocking tone. "Sometimes, I just can't tell the difference."

Avery's eyes instantly darkened. "You should be more respectful towards him, otherwise someone you care about might find themselves in a predicament," he took some steps towards her, stopping before their noses touched. Defiance and hatred danced in her mismatched eyes as he gripped her chin. "And that 'boy toy' comment makes me feel very offended," he said, whispering against her ear. "Tormenting little girls like you is one of the best pleasures I have in this school. But Tom…wants you for himself."

_As if I would let him._

His fingers gently caressed the nape of her neck, now trailing her collarbone. She was itching to hit him. Who gave him the bloody right of touching her like that?!

"Not that I blame him, you're the only one who he wants dead...eventually."

"Shut up, Avery."

"If you keep your mouth shut about what we have been doing, nothing will happen to that Half-Breed or the Mudblood girl you are always with," he went on, playing with a lock of her hair. "Blood-traitor."

Having Azure's patience reached its end, she grabbed his hand and pushed it away from her, viciously kneeing his midsection. He fell on the floor, body doubling over in pain in spite of the satisfied look on his face.

"I will seriously maim your precious 'Lord' or his group of sycophants first," Azure seethed while giving him an unforgivable look, _Dagan_'s tip about to touch his chest. "Get. Out."

He began laughing, clearly too amused with the situation, "Right…_he_ made sure that you couldn't remember it."

_Flipendo!_

A jet of white light hit his chest, throwing him back at the wall that was outside of the door, which closed as violently as the jinx she had given Avery.

"Little girls like me? Ha, in your dreams, Avery!"

However, her confidence turned into fear; Riddle had _Obliviated her_. He also knew _Legilimency_, which meant that all her punishments until now were not just writing lines in a regular piece of parchment or _"Blood-traitor"_ by using a forbidden Blood Quill – exactly like the one Professor Selwyn kept in his office – but they hinted at something far darker.

But what exactly was he after?

_"__Please be careful…for when people are hurting, they are the easiest to read,"_ Queenie's advice resonated on her head and she removed her pyjamas shirt, thinking of what Avery had said to her.

He had called Riddle "My Lord".

The respectful title was something she was expecting from that twit; he was gathering "followers" for some malicious purpose who were all Pure-bloods, aged fifteen to eighteen: the fifth years Aiden Rosier, Reynard Lestrange, Cyril Avery and Abraxas Malfoy; the sixth years Samson Yaxley, Leonard Crabbe (Prefect), Roger Mulciber, Marcellus Flint and Patrick Parkinson. Finally, there were the seventh years Raymond Lestrange, Mortimer Macnair and Aurelius Rookwood (Prefect), the last being the only one who was not a Slytherin but a Ravenclaw.

Myrtle's House. The only House that her own House could tolerate, a House that had become a court right under the Headmaster's nose.

A court composed by the Golden Boy's "followers".

_No, not followers, _she mused, her eyes adopting a grim look. _Knights should be more appropriate. And he is their King or Lord, whatever title he thinks it suits him the best. If Hogwarts is his castle, then we students are his loyal subjects…or prisoners._

"Bloody Lord Tom Marvolo Riddle," she cursed under her breath, the pyjamas shirt violently hitting the wall. Dressing into her "normal clothes" – and taking her time just to spite him –, she opened the door and went to the empty Common Room.

_"__A _Stupefy_, behind you, Azurelia." _

The second she heard Dagan's calm voice, Azure silently cast an automatic _Protego_; communicating with wands also meant her wand could tell her what spell an enemy was about to use. It was extremely handy in duels.

Her eyes narrowed when she met Reynard Lestrange's chocolate brown. He usually had an expression of detached amusement, which changed if he was with Mulciber tormenting Muggle-borns.

"Lestrange," she spat. "One of my bigoted Housemates and cousins."

"Ashlane," he replied in the same tone, his wand levelled at her chest. "Slytherin's disgrace."

"Did you forget the rules, Lestrange? No Duelling inside of the castle grounds unless in a proper Club."

"You're one to talk, _traître de sang_," he sneered. "What kind of proper _sorcière_ uses filthy _Non-Magiques _techniques to beat an opponent?"

"Someone who respects them," she replied coolly. "You should try that sometime. It will make you snap out of your blindness."

Suddenly,_ Dagan_ called her again, this time sounding much more urgent. But she was not fast enough. The spell had come from her right side, hitting her instantly.

The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was an unfortunately familiar and cold voice.

"Take her."

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** Review, please!**


	28. Chapter 27

**A/N: Micchi-chan, thank you for your lovely comments. I appreciate them. At the end of this chapter, there's a reference to the Gemini coven, which is a witch-thing from "The Vampire Diaries". In the series, the Gemini had lots of powerful grimoires filled with spells and it would not be very surprising if certain magical families knew about them, namely Sacred-Twenty-Eight families.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my OC's.**

**Warnings: torture (_Cruciatus_ and aggressive _Legilimency_).**

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**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Perfect Prefect's True Colours**

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She attempted to move her wrists, biting her lip when she felt a burning sensation on her fingers that forced her to stop. Despite only 20 minutes had passed since waking up, it was as if she had been inside the office for hours; tied up to a chair with wrists restrained by magic and whose bonds would only disappear on his command, which wouldn't happen at any time soon, she had to admit this was quite the predicament.

Her eyes slightly widened as the word "_Legilimens_" left Riddle's lips for the fourth time.

He was scanning through her memories again. It was like crashing into a wall followed by suffocating due to intense heat, showed by her transpiration and too accelerated heartbeats. As usual, she refused to answer his questions, which made his "sorting of memories" more painful. Then, she felt him lingering on a memory: herself exploring the secret library and finding an old book with a black cover. A second later, the scene was replaced by Azure opening the chest and finding a golden cup with a badger engraved on it.

"Where is the Hufflepuff Cup?" He ordered, his hand grabbing tightly her forehead. "Answer me honestly."

"Gone…stolen," she struggled to say the words, voice and eyes showing signs of fatigue.

"You lie. _Crucio_!"

Her body went into spasms, a violent shock passing through her entire being as she gasped for air, grey and gold eyes adopting a fearful look. Riddle's facial muscles remained the same but his eyes told a different story: he was _enjoying_ making her suffer.

"It's the truth; the Cup has disappeared from the Ashlane Manor since this Christmas!"

She felt him inside of her memories again, now hearing her thoughts on the thief named Fletcher.

_"Who is this Fletcher?"_

She shook her head, grimacing when the grip on her mind became stronger.

_"Answer me, Ashlane."_

"Why do you care about the Cup, Riddle?" She demanded furiously, finally pushing him out of her head. "It's my family's to keep, not yours! The Hufflepuff Cup belongs to my Ancestress Hildagarde!"

"The one who was in love with Salazar Slytherin, the greatest of the Four Hogwarts Founders?" He scoffed, not hiding his disgust at the word "love". "The Parseltongue Master who rightfully believed that only Pure-bloods could be accepted as students?" His low voice resonated in her mind once more, making her shut her eyes.

_Come on, you stupid shields! Don't let him in!_

_"_Occlumency_? Did you think you could use it against me?" _ The cold laugh that followed made her very uneasy; in practical terms, what she knew of the difficult Art of occluding one's mind amounted to nothing when compared to a wizard who had been polishing these skills since he placed a foot inside this school. "_A weakling like you?"_

_Or...was it even before that?_

_"If I say it myself, Ashlane, _Legilimency_ has always been one of my…personal tastes." _

Azure's suspicions were true; the twit – she instantly felt the impact of a strong backhand on her cheek – had been using her as a "lab rat" for five years.

_But why the bloody hell are you so fixated with my mind?_

"Your memories," he answered. She imagined punching that smirk off his face. "You knew things that greatly interested me…like the Chamber of Secrets. Of course, it was not too hard to find books on the matter, but since the Chamber is mostly regarded as a myth I had to make sure I could find material proof of its existence. It took me five entire years to learn everything that I needed to know about it." He patted her head mockingly. "All thanks to you."

Her unnerving stare was met with another backhand, this time opening her lower lip. She spat blood on the floor, turning her head to face Riddle, who grabbed the collar of her uniform, amused dark brown orbs staring into her furious mismatched ones.

A rush of resolve appeared. Resolve against Riddle's mad plan. "I…will not let you open it. Deep down, you know that Pure-blood supremacy is not the answer for us wizards and witches! Our school…Hogwarts stands up for co-harmony among students. What you are proposing goes against this very same institution's creed! Worse, it's against the Law!"

"You are a disgrace for a Slytherin, Ashlane."

She scowled at him. "If by that you mean that I am a sane person, then I will gladly be known as a disgrace in the conservative and hateful Pure-blood magical community," "Blacks, Lestranges, Malfoys, all of those that belong to the Dark Alliance mean nothing to me. Do keep in mind that some of us don't believe in the supremacy of one or few over everyone."

"That 'Acceptance First and Foremost?' nonsense?"

"It's no longer nonsense when there's a war against a madman who thinks the opposite, quite like you, Riddle," she argued, her voice calm and steady. "Acceptance, cooperation and friendship are more needed than ever. But unlike him, you're worse: Grindelwald may be a dangerous wizard, but he does not fight solely for his interests. He is a revolutionary whose ideas are rooted in the constant prejudicing and persecuting non-magicals did, especially during the Dark Ages. You? You're just a boy. A boy who hero-worships an insane man who is dead since the 12th century."

Riddle gritted his teeth and prodded her chin with his wand, eyes brimming with rage. "I will become greater than anyone. Greater than Salazar Slytherin and Grindelwald! When the Chamber of Secrets is opened and mark my words, it will happen very soon, this school shall be purged of the unworthy!"

"Before you do it, you will be expelled, Riddle. I will tell everyone about your 'great plan'!"

In response, Riddle's wand conjured a red flash, the sensation of being electrocuted as painful as it had been the first time. "No, you will not," he said calmly, one cold hand on her cheek, mockingly caressing it. "You will assist me, Ashlane. Do you know why? Because _you_ descend from the noble Salazar Slytherin's bloodline. We are relatives."

"NO! WE ARE NOT!" She protested, the horror and disbelief clear in her eyes as she shook her head violently. She was _not_ related to Slytherin, no one in her family was related to that vile man, the man who Hildagarde loved and who had spent his life manipulating everyone around him.

Bathilda Bagshot's _Hogwarts: a History_ described Salazar Slytherin as a powerful wizard who had married another Pure-blood witch and bore her a son, beginning a bloodline. And Helga's daughter Hildagarde knew about it. She had written about it in those letters Azure had found in the Ashlane Manor. Despite later being married to another, she fantasized about having Slytherin's child, how important this was for one thousand years later…

"I don't believe that for a second!" Azure exclaimed, the defiant look returning to her eyes, albeit it looked far weaker than the previous times.

"You're a fool if you think you're just of Hildagarde's blood."

Suddenly, she began hearing a horrifying sibilant sound that seemed to put her in some kind of trance, the sound eventually becoming vowels and consonants.

_"This is the proof that you, like me, descend from the Great Salazar Slytherin."_

To her, this sounded like English but she knew it was a different language: Parseltongue.

_"No, no, no!"_ She unwillingly felt her mouth open and answering in the same language. She shut her eyes, not caring about the tears that were falling down her cheeks.

_"We share the same blood, Ashlane. You are the Heiress of Slytherin."_

_"No, I cannot be. I won't be. I will leave the school before I become your accomplice!"_

_"You speak as if I am giving you a choice," _he hissed, the sound ringing through her head. _"Deny all you want but it will be useless…"_

A sickly big pair of yellow eyes was in front of her subconscious, blood and a black liquid flowing down her hands. It was then replaced by another that made her shiver as she sensed its Aura: a huge cave with a gargantuan statue of an old man whose hair could be confused with snakes, snake-shaped stone pillars and, lying on the cold ground, was the mangled, bloody body of a petite figure: a young girl with twin-tails and glasses, unseeing eyes and lips opened in a frozen scream…someone she knew too well.

_"Please don't kill her! She is an innocent, Riddle!"_ Azure's desperate hisses only amused him more, his hand casually placing one loose strand of her hair back in its place.

_"You should be happy, Ashlane; I am doing you a favour by eliminating that annoying little girl."_

"R…Ri-"

"Not Riddle. The name 'Tom Riddle' means nothing to me." He grabbed Azure by her hair, tightly pulling it. "Lord Voldemort! That is the name I will be known by when I finally overthrow the Law of Life and Death!"

She shouted in her mind to not fall asleep because if she did she would forget. Again. But her traitorous body didn't obey. As dark spots blurred her vision, Azure looked at him one last time and shivered at the sheen of murder in his eyes.

"One last thing," he whispered maliciously, leaning his lips against her ear. "That Mudblood will be the first to die and _you_ will be there to watch it."

"NO! I have to warn someone! I have to-"Azure's mouth and eyes closed and with that, her body went limp, the magic bonds disappearing from her wrists as she fell unceremoniously on the floor.

* * *

"Foolish woman," he sneered after erasing her memory of today's events. She had believed him! He almost pitied her…no, he didn't. Though, the whole thing was too amusing.

She hadn't realized that he had manipulated her mind the second she woke up in his office, well down until the part where she had spoken Parseltongue, which was in his personal opinion, a nice touch to compliment the "Heiress of Slytherin" revelation.

As if this Blood-traitor could be descended from Salazar Slytherin. No, he had only implanted the thought in her head as a way of slowly destructing her, endangering her sanity and damaging her Aura Sight beyond repair.

If she tried to remember or say anything to anyone, a curse would take effect.

This time, he had learned much more than usual; Ashlane had shown him two very important things: the fact that he could overcome Death and become truly immortal and that the stolen Helga Hufflepuff's Cup was in the hands of someone named Fletcher, a cup that would serve his purposes perfectly…but that would have to wait.

He needed to find a way of neutralizing all threats to the Serpent of Slytherin, namely the rooster's crowing. Perhaps Avery would be useful for the task; his "friend" was good with memory Charms and had quite the interest in the Dark Arts. For instance, one of the Gemini coven's forbidden spells that had controlled the Fortescue girl's movements, causing her to strangle the Mudblood, one of Ashlane's weaknesses. The other was that dim-witted Hagrid…

A frown appeared on his face. He was currently threading into thin ice; while opening the Chamber of Secrets was his priority, he had to do it in a way that would not expose him as the Heir of Slytherin and endangering the carefully crafted mask of the "model student" persona he had created.

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**Review, please!**


	29. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter". Only my OCs.**

**A/n: I am using the movie's depiction of the Chamber of Secrets' entrance because it is a lot scarier than the one from the book.**

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**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Oncoming Storm**

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This meant only one thing: he needed a scapegoat. And he had the perfect person, no, Half-Breed, who filled the criteria.

"But after that…the _Horcruxes_," Tom decided, imagining himself delving into and obtaining the most secret and dangerous magic in all of the fields of Dark Arts. "Herpo was a grown adult when he created one. I will not wait that long."

The yew wand twirled in long fingers, its owner's voice replaced by hisses. _"The fools, the whole lot of them."_

_Not all of them_, his inner voice corrected him. _Remember the three._

Yes, there were three exceptions; Ashlane, the old coot and that dangerous Tranquilflow witch; when he had used _Legilimency _on her during Divination class, he was met with an image of a river, its water tranquilly flowing like her last name's namesake before being swiftly pushed out of her mind, which made him fall – it was his only blunder and he would glower at and _Crucio_ the idiot who commented about it – off his chair. But one day, she would pay for this humiliation ten-fold.

One day, the world would bow to him, Lord Voldemort.

_As for Ashlane…she has yet to break completely, _he added inwardly, dark brown eyes alight with malignant glee at his sleeping enemy. Her mind was tough to break but, the torture session had weakened her greatly.

_This will be too easy_, he chuckled and pointed the wand at her head, casting a forbidden spell he had recently come across when he was reading one of the House of Black's grimoires; the caster would be able to implant a nightmare of his creation on the victim. "_Incubo Terribilis_."

A black haze began involving the girl's body, making him smirk. "Sweet dreams, cousin."

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_Dark. Cold. Fear. These were the words/sensations that best described this dream as she found herself in her seven years body, standing in front of a giant round door of stone in which were engraved eight serpents, seven of them slithering in many directions, one final stone serpent near the what could be considered as the gate's "hinge", as if it was waiting for someone to make it circulating the stone door, completing a perfect circle like Azure had seen in one an old alchemy book: the Ouroboros, which depicted the snake that eats its tail. A symbol of the infinite._

_Then, she heard a low hiss behind her and turned her head, her eyes looking at a familiar young man wearing the Hogwarts uniform, the silver brooch identifying him as a Perfect. One of his hands was holding a black notebook, the other at his side._

_Dream-Riddle extended his free hand to her, her mind screaming as her hand was slowly approaching the smiling taller boy's. His eyes were cold and deep like two pits of darkness except for a strange red glimmer that showed his intentions to commit the most unforgivable magical act._

"Soon…soon and you will discover the path that was designed for us, Heiress."

_This was _Parseltongue. _And __she could understand it. Why? And what was she doing here?_ _Why was Riddle here?_

_She tried to move, but her entire__ body was frozen except for her hand who was about to touch his, her mind _screaming_ at her to run..._

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"Wake up."

A sharp contralto voice and a sudden slap made her wake up with a jolt. Quickly scanning her surroundings, she realized she was back in her dormitory. Hellebore Monfay was looking down at her, the annoyance clear in her eyes as she held a wand facing the ceiling. The _Lumos _Charm's white light was sprouting from it.

"We are trying to sleep!" A frustrated voice from someone who was in the opposite corner shouted. She supposed it belonged to one of the Rowle twins.

She yawned before looking at Monfay. "What time is it now?"

"Devil's hour. Three and a quarter in the morning, Ashlane," the brunette replied evenly. "You were having a nightmare, squirming and screaming about murder and snakes."

"Snakes! A Slytherin that fears snakes?" A couple of Slytherin girls started giggling and laughing as Azure tried to remember how the bloody hell she had gotten back here when the last thing she remembered was Avery harassing her and…what was he saying then?

Something about "My Lord", which meant the insufferable "Perfect Prefect" and "he made you sure you couldn't remember". But remember what?

"Isn't she a failure for Slytherin?"

"But I heard all Ashlanes went to Hufflepuff…"

"The Sorting Hat must have malfunctioned or something!"

"Blood-traitor!" Travers' high-pitched voice spat.

"Ashlane, how much would an apology cost you?" Monfay asked impatiently.

"I am truly sorry for waking all of us up," the "failure" droned, waving a hand in a dismissing gesture as she turned to the other way. Unknowing to her, Monfay focused her wand on the chatting girls, a wicked grin stretching on her face.

Silence befell on their entire dormitory.

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"The Chamber of Secrets, huh," she snorted, one hand holding the supposed chamber entrance's drawing and the other a mug of cinnamon tea with a bit of chocolate powder Tingly had prepared for her before leaving Azure in the Common Room's sofa. "A place that only the Heir can open. The Heir…it could be anyone but…_he_ would be the most obvious choice."

The Perfect's face flashed in her head. When the subject was Old Slytherin's past, Riddle would have this strange reddish glint in his eyes.

_A direct descendant of the Gaunts, a Speaker and an ambition that is as great as his killing intent…not to mention the Dark Aura he exudes…_

Shaking her head at this frightening theory, she placed the drawing in her pouch and closed her eyes, the sound of the crackling flames of the fireplace lulling her to sleep.

It was already morning when she finally woke up, mismatched eyes meeting a scornful gaze. "10 points from Slytherin for sleeping outside of the dormitory," Walburga Black drawled, haughtily tossing her hair before opening the door of the Common Room. She twisted her nose as if she was smelling a strong odour. "And 10 more because I simply hate your existence, you filthy Blood-traitor."

"Fine, fine. Just go already, Miss Black," Azure said evenly once the Prefect was out of earshot. "Better being a Blood-traitor than coming from a family with a propensity to madness."

Returning to her dormitory, she summoned one of the kitchen elves and asked him in Elves language to prepare what she usually ate for breakfast.

The elf popped out of existence and returned with her request: a glass of warm milk, toast, scrambled eggs, an apple and two chocolate cookies. He was just a bit taller than the twins and his eyes were light blue, which was a rare colour among his kind.

"Have yourself one, Jumpy," Azure offered. The young elf took shyly a cookie. "No cook should work on an empty stomach."

Jumpy's ears flapped in contentment and he bit on the cookie. "Jumpy likes serving Missus Azure very much. Never change, Missus Azure!"

The young witch smiled at the elf's honesty and watched him disappear with a soundless "pop". Sipping happily her milk, she imagined herself as Headmaster, like her great-great-grandfather…

Things would have to change. For starters, pumpkin juice as a snack or as something to drink during lunch, but never during breakfast.

Milk was much healthier.

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** Please, review!**


	30. Chapter 29

**A/N: We are ab****out to find out what was Grindelwald's plan for Azure. Some parts of this chapter are taken from "The Deadly Hallows".**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my OC's."**

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**Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Master of Death**

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Myrtle could not say much about Gellert Grindelwald, except what she had read in the newspapers. The Dark Wizard was a lunatic, simple as that. Her friend was unfortunately acquainted with him because of a certain meeting that had ended up with Azure witnessing the Unforgivables.

That conversation made the petite remember of their small discussion on the Unforgivables with Lexi and Stefan. While some wizards and witches could build a resistance to the _Imperius_ and the _Cruciatus_, this normally required decades of training.

"Until this day, no one – human - survived the Killing Curse. There's no rebound. You can dodge it if you're fast enough, you can try to throw something heavy at it, but the spell always finds a victim," Azure intoned calmly, her palms on the grass that surrounded them. "The Soul is instantly severed from your body."

Myrtle nodded. The _Avada Kedavra_ was final; the second you are hit with it, you die. In order to deflect it, you just needed to send something like a big rock in its direction and the impact will disintegrate the rock. Or you could dodge it like one of those _ninja_ people.

But most people do not think about it when they're facing literal death.

"However…if the target owned the infamous Elder Wand, perhaps the outcome would be different."

She frowned at Azure's words, her ears picking up faintly the chirping of birds. "The Elder Wand?"

"One of the three most powerful objects crafted by Death," Azure replied with a half-smile. "While Muggle-borns grow up hearing Grimm and other storytellers' fairy tales, we have stories such as _The_ _Tale of the Three Brothers_. It portrays a cunning Death and three brothers who used magic to pass a river where usually people would drown. After Death reveals herself to the brothers and congratulates them for surviving, she promises to grant one single wish to each brother. The three brothers are defined by a particular personality trait: the eldest was ambitious and belligerent so he wished for an invincible wand.

Myrtle's eyes widened in pure fascination as Azure used her wand to conjure a straight vertical line on thin air. "A wand made of elder wood..."

Azure nodded. "Also known as the Stick of Death, it has Thestral tail hair as a core, according to Wandlore."

The horse-like creatures Myrtle had seen pulling the carriers flashed in her head. "I can see them too. Grandpa…died in his bed and I was the last person he saw and s-spoke to," she sobbed before sitting upright and removing her glasses, wiping the salty liquid of her eyes.

"The same happened with Uncle Chris," her friend recalled softly, fingering an old key around her neck. "He used to narrate this story to me."

Myrtle nodded sadly and put her glasses on. She let her body falling backwards, her back hitting the soft grass. "What did the other brothers wish for?"

Azure did the same and waved her wand once more, this time adding a circle on top of the line. "The second brother sought to bring deceased loved ones to life, so Death enchanted a small black stone she had picked up from a riverbed and offered it to him. Despite the name, the Resurrection Stone did not resurrect the dead, only spirit-like beings. This brother was defined by his hubris, unlike the first who thrived for power."

"Because to resurrect people is against nature," Myrtle interjected. "In some religions like mine, the resurrection of the dead only concerns the Creator, not the creations." The corners of her lips quirked. "Another thing that our worlds have in common."

"That's right!" Azure beamed at her. "The final brother…he was most of all, a humble man. Not trusting the entity before him, he asked for a means to safely continue his journey without being followed by Death." Their eyes followed the wand's movements as it enclosed the line and the circle in a triangle. The symbol was giving off a reddish glow. "This shape," she pointed to the triangle, "represents the Cloak of Invisibility, firstly owned by Death and then grudgingly relinquished to the youngest brother. According to the legend, this cloak could hide its owner from everything, Death included. It was also a cloak that never lost its power, whether it was due to age or curses."

_The authentic, the first Cloak?_ Myrtle asked inwardly, recalling Charlus Potter show off his transparent cloak to his friends two years ago. He had said that his brother had asked him to "use it well" because it was a precious heirloom. She was aware that there were special cloaks capable of concealing someone's presence temporarily. But this kind of cloak…had to be one of a kind. "How did they die?"

"The first was killed in his sleep by a fellow wizard who coveted the all-powerful wand that had given him countless victories. He died drunk in power. The second took his own life not too much after using the stone in order to join his deceased lover. He died for love. And the last one…"

"His death was not violent or tragic," Myrtle deduced. "Death collected the two brothers easily. But the youngest…"

Azure hummed in agreement. "The story ends with the brother – now an aged man - finally removing the cloak, giving it to his son and greeting Death like an old friend. And together, both departed to the afterlife."

"Acceptance...that's why his death was different from his brothers…" Myrtle breathed. "He did not reject Death but the opposite. His death was devoid of regrets."

"To every tale, there is a moral, a hidden lesson," her friend added, soft fingers interlocking with Myrtle's who smiled, basking in the older girl's natural warmth. "In this case, we learn that no one can eternally flee from Death. You and I, all living beings are born to die. But until then, we have to live with the choices we make. From my perspective…the youngest brother was the only one who truly lived."

"These objects…are real?"

"Some believe that they are real and some do not," the older girl answered cryptically, removing her fingers from Myrtle's hand. "Together, the triad is collectively known as 'The Deathly Hallows'; the person who unites them will be known as 'The Master of Death'," she added dryly. "It is not very hard to imagine that the sheer thought of overcoming Death as too much seductive for certain people who would otherwise dismiss the objects as a simple bedtime story."

Her eyes widened behind the spectacles at Azure's rather grim statement. _But that would mean..._

"That night when you met Grindelwald, you said he was wearing a necklace with the symbol engraved on our tree's bark. Could it be…_that_?"

Azure nodded gravely. "After politely introducing himself and telling me he knew I was an Aura Seer – my eyes gave it away instantly –, he tried to use the _Imperius_ on me because Aura Seers and Seers are the only people that can pinpoint any magical signature; while Seers could tell you a rough estimate of the location, Aura Seers instantly see the objects or people and their exact locations in their minds. But…"

"It didn't work," Myrtle completed. Azure's immunity to the _Imperius_ was one of her secrets.

"At that time, I was still too young to know what the symbol around his neck meant…but now I know the truth." Myrtle frowned and faced her friend. "He called himself an _unvollständiger Meister des Todes_. It's German for 'incomplete Master of Death. This Revolution of his is a means to an end: the gathering of the Hallows."

"And he already has one," Myrtle added fearfully as her friend nodded. "His wand…was not just any wand, was it?"

"I heard its voice just for a moment. It was saying that Grindelwald was greater than his first master. Grindelwald called it _Holunder Walz_. Or, as we would say in English, the Elder Wand."

"The Elder Wand," Myrtle repeated slowly. "That's…"

"…too fantastic to believe?" Azure asked rhetorically, hands trembling. "If one exists, the other two are somewhere...all we can do now is to believe that they will never be found by that mass-murderer or his ilk."

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**Please, review!**


	31. Chapter 30

**A/N: We are now back to Myrtle's POV. This chapter takes place in mid-April. The Chamber of Secrets remains unopened...but not for long.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my OC's.**

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**Chapter Thirty: Past, Future and Present**

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A pair of bespectacled eyes rose from the plate as its owner saw Azure entering the Great Hall, practically empty, except for two or three small groups of Ravenclaw and Slytherins who sat on their respective benches, sometimes glancing at the threesome before going back to whatever they were doing.

News of their close friendship had flown quickly among the castle's halls, making Myrtle's over-cautiousness spiking to abnormal levels as she remembered the times she had been accosted by a couple of older students. That kind of thing was over; Azure's stare at anyone unsatisfied about her choice of friends was more than enough to make them rethink their intentions.

And Myrtle felt safe and grateful for it. Azure's existence had pulled her away from her inner shadows, doubts and fears. Azure...completed Myrtle.

"Did yeh' woke up the wrong side of the bed?" Hagrid teased as the Slytherin sat on the Gryffindor table's bench, placing the silver tray full of toasts and jam jars on the table rather loudly.

"Sorry, Ru, but I really, really, hate this place's bloody competitive system," her friend admitted. "Why can't we all get along? Why is it so bloody difficult to do as other schools do? When traditions endanger our society, they don't deserve to be called that anymore! And this thing with Cups! In Beauxbatons, there are no cups. They get ribbons. In Ilvermony, medals."

_And here we go again_, Myrtle let out a tired sigh as the older girl continued her rant, Hagrid trying his best not to laugh, though he looked at her as if she had grown two heads when she told them about Durmstrang rewarding the winner of a scholarship with _Occamy _shells, which were extremely valuable. And rare.

"...in Hogwarts, there is Quidditch Cup, Inter-House Duelling Cup, Wizarding Chess Championship Cup, House Cup," Azure continued sourly. "Who cares about the stupid House Cup anyway?"

"All the students except for you?" Myrtle returned easily the question, retrieving a strawberry jam jar.

"With the number of detentions and the many points I've been deducted to, it's nothing short a miracle how in the bloody hell my House won last year's Cup!" This was true; only in this trimester, Azure had already lost 120 points for "minor infractions" and had attended many hours of detention with "the twit".

"You're forgetting the 'Tom Riddle factor,'" Myrtle said matter-of-factly. "Slytherin winning the House Cup for four consecutive times is probably because of him. The last time someone obtained such high marks was when Dumbledore was a student."

"Tom is a model student since first-year," the burly boy added between scoops of cereals and milk. "Many call him a prodigy."

Azure tightened her hold on her glass of milk before she swallowed the liquid in one gulp, traces of it on around her lips.

Myrtle giggled and Hagrid quickly put his hand on his mouth to stifle his laugh.

"For now, there's no more talking about Mr Perfect Prefect," the Slytherin declared in a final tone, mock-glaring at the pair and wiping her mouth with the napkin. "Do we three understand each other?" Not waiting for their answer, Azure left her seat, probably to pick up some leftover chocolate cookies that were on the opposite side of the table.

"I guess we will never know why 'Zure and Tom act like cats and dogs," Hagrid whispered to his friend. "'She's scary, sometimes."

"Those two in the same place for a long time…is not good for anyone's health," Myrtle whispered back. "And I asked her countless times why-"

"Hey, what are you going to do after graduating?" Azure asked excitedly, the chocolate cookie in her hand disappearing in a split of second as she took her usual place in front of Myrtle and Hagrid.

Hagrid nudged Myrtle's shoulder, catching her attention. "I never thought about it," she carefully chose the words. "But I would like to help Madam Burnett. Since she never had an assistant during her time here…"

"What a wonderful idea," Azure said with a grin, making Myrtle blush a little as she ate the rest of her toast. "And you?" She asked Hagrid.

"If Dumbledore replaces Dippet as Headmaster, I'll ask for a job!"

"I have no doubts Dumbledore would help you," Myrtle agreed before drinking from her cup of pumpkin juice. "That one is a true Gryffindor."

"Yes, but he is also someone who has seen both the good and the bad…" Azure said distantly.

"What is she sayin' now?" Hagrid whispered to Myrtle.

"I don't know," she replied in a low voice, "I don't speak 'riddlish'!" Her bespectacled eyes looked at the seemingly distracted older girl. "And what kind of plans do you have for the future, _Azurelia_?"

Azure instantly made a face at the use of her first name. "Oh, me? Little old me who could be the greatest Auror of all times, but because of my narcolepsy, I cannot be placed on the battlefield like my parents? Let me rephrase that: what would the Ministry think if they had a narcoleptic for an Auror candidate? And by the Ministry, I mean the rest of the higher-ups in our community. It's obvious, isn't it?"

"So…" Hagrid trailed.

"So, no Auror career for me; I want to be an illustrator or a researcher like Uncle Chris," she replied dreamily, the smile widening. "Or his friend Mr Scamander. I want to see the world with my own eyes."

"When in doubt, follow what the heart's tellin', always, " their friend remarked sagely. Myrtle nodded in agreement and spread lots of jam on her second toast.

"The thing is…some of my parents' co-workers are worried," Azure said seriously. "They want to avoid a new Grindelwald which makes sense; that lunatic's mark will not disappear that easily."

"Meanin'?"

"He is an ideologue; ideologues easily gather followers and serve as an inspiration to others," her best friend replied, lips pursed. "A Grindelwald in hiding doesn't make him less of a danger he already is. Now, imagine if someone decided to go further."

Myrtle no longer wanted to eat or drink anything more.

"On a different note." She hoped that whatever Hagrid was about to say was nothing ominous. "Lupin heard rumours…our roosters were all found dead, with slashed necks and marks of bites. Poison, I tell yeh'."

"And what kind of animal would have done it? Without being detected?" She asked, ever the sceptical one. "Are you sure no one really saw anything?"

The Gryffindor shook his head and Myrtle watched him leave the table.

"Slashed throats, poison and no witnesses to the crime? This is like the beginning of a detective novel," Azure commented sardonically, her cheek resting against her knuckles. "I can see the cover: _Young Sherlock at Hogwarts: The Case of the Dead Roosters._" She snorted. "Because the older Sherlock Holmes would quickly lose interest in this one unless an actual crime involving people happened."

Myrtle could not help but shiver at Azure's last words. _Let's hope it does not end up that way. _Despite not disagreeing with her friend, this kind of case was too eerie to be one written by Sir Doyle.

A flash from her childhood fleeted across her mind: Myrtle reading one of Keane's books, finding everything in it enthralling, be it the descriptions, the motives of the culprit/culprits, the characters and the overall themes…

_Ten Little Niggers_ had given her nightmares for a week.

"Hey, 'Zure, Myrtle!" Hagrid's voice snapped her out of her reverie, making Myrtle and Azure turn their heads to the source who was running toward them. "I forgot ta tell this!"

"And what would that be?" Azure asked amusedly.

"Epona is about to give birth," he answered with a wide grin. "Kettleburn said that we can name one of her babes!"

Epona was one of the oldest Hippogriffs and the leader of the herd Mr Ogg was caring for. Myrtle had seen Epona a couple of times and to be honest, she hadn't been frightened. Hippogriffs were like big horses, but much more stubborn and stronger. Myrtle liked horses. Holly didn't.

Then again, Holly didn't like many things. Myrtle could handle blood and a delivery, Holly…no.

The only time they had witnessed a birth was in Aunt Siobhan's barn when they were nine years old: the very old family's pet – a rabbit – had given birth to twenty baby rabbits. The delivery had taken almost twelve hours and Myrtle had helped Aunt Siobhan. On that day, only one had thrown up and it hadn't been the "gloomy Warren twin".

One week later, another "incident" happened and Holly began avoiding her. But that was in the past; everything was well. Instead of a childhood bully, Holly had returned to being her little sister who called her "Sis"...

"Then, what we are waiting for? Let's go!" Azure said before smiling at Myrtle. "Any brilliant names, Twin-tails?"

"That's a secret," Myrtle replied, bespectacled eyes looking at Hagrid, the latter excitedly discussing Hippogriphs' mating habits with his fellow Gryffindor, Lyall Lupin. "But I can tell you it will be special."

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	32. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my OC's. I certainly do not own the creepy message on the wall.**

**Warning: paranoia, torture (implied)**

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**Chapter Thirty-One: The Heir of Slytherin's Goal****  
**

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For the last couple of weeks, thoughts of dead roosters and cold eyes had occupied Azure's head constantly, sometimes taking away her concentration. The other day, she had fallen asleep right in the middle of Transfiguration class. One week before, it was Potions and Ancient Runes; while Professor Slughorn had expressed his concern for her health yet again, Professor Selwyn was the opposite, as he had never liked her and the feeling was mutual.

Still, she respected him as a Professor of Ancient Runes. Ancient Runes was one of the subjects in which she tended to perform poorly. Myrtle's grades, however, were always "Exceed Expectations" and this had only happened because she had to prove she hadn't cheated because Professor Selwyn, being the Pure-blood supremacist he was, believed that Muggle-borns – at least he never used the slur "Mudblood" – were inferior in magical prowess and intelligence.

She could have been expelled more than once, but her parents had always managed to get the idea out of the Headmaster's head. They never explained to her why she had to complete her education at Hogwarts when Beauxbatons, Mother's _alma mater_, was a possibility.

Finally, the Dark Aura; the presence she had sensed since she shared a compartment with Riddle was thicker than ever. It was smothering her, nearly making her pass out.

It didn't matter if he wasn't in front of her; just thinking about him made her skin crawl.

Like, now.

Gasping for breath, she turned her head around, but…there was nothing.

_Bloody hell._

Shaking her head furiously, she continued at a much faster pace, trying to shake away the fact she was becoming too paranoid. Showing signs of great mental instability only meant one thing: a one-way trip to St. Mungo's.

"Paranoia. Just perfect," she spat after turning around the corner, a destination in mind: the Divination classroom. She had an apology and an assignment to deliver.

* * *

A silhouette observed the empty corridor. Stepping into the daylight, the silhouette turned out to be a young handsome boy aged sixteen years old with black hair and an unreadable expression, the silver glint of the Prefect brooch contrasting against the black of his uniform and robes.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" A boy his age with short blond hair and caramel-coloured eyes asked casually.

Tom seemed a bit irritated at the fact he was being addressed with too much familiarity before he collected himself, a polite smile plastered on his face. "Nothing that you need to know. For now, Avery."

At Avery's side, stood Reynard Lestrange. Both were Lord Voldemort's "Knights" and his classmates to the public.

"Did you do it?" Tom asked Avery, who folded his arms, a sinister smirk on his face.

"He won't remember a thing, except for what he is supposed to remember."

"Good," Tom said, satisfaction clear in his voice; another part of the plan had been completed.

"My Lord," Lestrange addressed with deference. "Should we do something about the _traître de sang_?"

Tom's polite smile froze as Lestrange referred to the defiant witch whose mind he had slowly read for the past five years. "Not yet. She has unknowingly been useful to me," he smoothly replied, pulling his diary out of his robes. "That's the only reason why she is still breathing."

_It won't be too long..._

The self-proclaimed Heir of Slytherin allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction; patience was one of his virtues and he had dedicated his time to unveil every secret behind the blue-haired, watching her suffer during her "detentions" which had been nothing more than an excuse to practice the Unforgivables – the exception being the _Imperio _because Ashlane had an annoying immunity to it, something he had come across during his third year, and the infamous Killing Curse _Avada Kedavra_ because he still lacked the power to cast it – and, most importantly, his _Legilimency_.

The results had been quite fruitful; he would be the first one to open the Chamber of Secrets, continuing what his Ancestor had planned to do one thousand years ago, and he would also ensure Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane's utter destruction.

Two birds with one stone.

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Tim Collins, a fourth-year Muggle-born Gryffindor woke up in the middle of the Forbidden Forest covered in dry blood and rooster's feathers, hand still holding on a kitchen knife. Ten days later, after being interrogated by his Professors for his sudden disappearance and partial amnesia, the boy admitted he had no idea why he was holding the sharp utensil despite clearly remembering butchering the poor roosters. The Professors surmised he had been subjected to a memory-altering Charm, the author of which remained unidentified.

Following the celebration of Gryffindor's victory against Ravenclaw, Tim and his crush Celestina Warbeck came across a threatening message written in human blood – _his_ blood, he had later discovered – in the Charms Corridor's wall. Under it, they found the Petrified body of a third-year Muggle-born Hufflepuff named Leonard Fairchild.

The message in question was: "ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE."

Headmaster Dippet concluded gravely that the Chamber of Secrets might not be a myth and reinstated a tighter curfew. The lives of his students were at stake.

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** Please, review!**


	33. Chapter 32

**A/N: Back to Myrtle's POV. The date is 13th June 1943...and we remember what happened on this day. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter". Only my OCs.**

**Warnings: Self-harming (implied) Myrtle's romantic attraction for Azure.**

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**Chapter Thirty-Two: A Bubble Bath at a Sunday Morning**

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The first rays of sunlight gradually broke through the feather-like royal blue curtains that partially covered the many windows of the Ravenclaw Fourth Year Girls Dormitory, its sleeping occupants sometimes changing sides of the bed. Well, most of them were sleeping; Myrtle had been woken up by a knocking sound and someone opening the door. To her surprise, it was Ariane Clearwater, a fifth-year Prefect, the top of her class, Chaser, and a firm believer in punctuality.

When Myrtle had locked herself inside of her old bathroom's favourite stall to cry and use her quill in an "unsafe way", Clearwater would try to make her go to class because truancy was "completely unacceptable" and she was damaging their House's reputation; Ravenclaws solved their problems with logic and method. They didn't run.

Four years ago, to run was her only way. But now, to run was the last thing she wanted to do.

"There's a girl in a bathrobe at the entrance of our Common Room asking for you," Clearwater explained while tucking a lock of chestnut brown hair behind her ear. "She solved the riddle, but did not place a foot inside and she made herself very clear she won't leave until you go there."

The petite had an idea of this girl's identity. No, it could only be one girl. "Azure?"

The Prefect nodded and hid a yawn. "Just go there and convince her there's a time to be awake and there's a time to sleep. Today is a Sunday, which means 'resting day'. For _all_ of us." Not waiting for Myrtle's answer, Clearwater left the dormitory and closed the door.

Convincing Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane of doing something the opposite she wants? That is like talking to a wall.

_No, I think talking to a wall would be simpler if you know the appropriate spell, _she thought wryly as she stretched her arms and tucked her feet in the fluffy rabbit-eared slippers.

"Ashlane is asking for you," Hornby taunted. "Must make you feel very cared for, huh, Moaning Myrtle?" She giggled, almost shrilling-like. "Moaning gloomy Myrtle!"

Myrtle gave her a bland look, smiling inwardly; Hornby's jabs and taunts no longer produced the same effect as before.

The silence that followed was a sign, the sign of her victory over her former bully; a quiet and fearful Olive Hornby was much better than the talkative version.

"Shut your trap, Hornby. Your voice is as bad as those blasted Cornish Pixies," Maura Bones snarled, who was usually well-humoured except when someone woke her up before the right time. She had honey-brown eyes and brown hair with red tips that was currently messier than a bird's nest. "Or do you want a repeat of what happened before the Holidays? But unlike Ashlane, my flames _will_ burn you."

Bones was indeed very adept in using Fire-based spells; she had managed to produce a _Lacarnum Inflamare_ in only two weeks.

"I...I am not afraid of Blood-traitors like her or you, Bones!"

With a fluid movement, Bones pulled out her wand and stunned Hornby. The remaining girls exchanged brief looks amongst themselves before pulling up their covers.

"Go. Clearwater won't begin her patrols until nine."

"Why?"

"I hated Slytherins," Bones stated. "Until one of them saved a Hufflepuff from drowning during our third year."

Myrtle remembered Minnie and Diggory discussing it. It was also on that day she heard the name "Ashlane" for the first time. "Elliot Johnson?"

"He is my half-brother." Her eyes widened at the revelation. "Ashlane proved to me that Slytherin is not an unredeemable House."

Nodding, she went up to the door, pausing when the brunette's serious voice made her turn around. "Warren, be careful or you'll find yourself in the Hospital Wing like those three."

"Those three" meant the Petrified Muggle-borns whose condition would last until they drink a potion whose core ingredient was Mandrake's sap, according to Pomona. The Mandrakes, however, were still too young to be used. As for what had caused their state…

_What if that monster is real? _She asked inwardly before addressing their class's number two. "Do you believe…the Chamber exists?"

"We have a Dark Creature inside of this school that only attacks Muggle-borns. I don't know if it is that monster. But it won't stop until the culprit for the attacks is caught." She gave Myrtle a grim look. "Or someone is killed."

And with those words, Myrtle left the dormitory, her thoughts turning to the events of the last weeks. Something ominous was happening in this school: dead roosters, Collins not remembering what happened during the time he went missing, those bloody messages and people turned to stone…

After writing to Lexi about it, she had received a short reply: to _never_ go anywhere without Azure.

Shaking her head, she yawned, blinking as a familiar girl appeared in her visual field.

During her time as a witch, she had seen her fair share of different and strange things, some of which she had immediately associated with Azure. The scene before her was strange in every sense of the word; a girl at a Common Room's entrance wearing a bathrobe and running shoes was not normal, except if we were talking about the bordering bipolar Azurelia Hildagarde Ashlane.

Myrtle began wondering what her lips would taste like. Apples, first. Chocolate would be the second. Flashes of their waltz appeared again in her head, Azure's face leaning closer to her own…

_Stop that!_ She shouted inwardly. In her mind, the scarlet-robed Myrtle whistled innocently. The Slytherin Myrtle idly looked at her manicured nails, a faint blush on her face. The Hufflepuff side blushed furiously. The last of them was trying to hide the blush with a book.

Muttering about her inner's overactive imagination, the petite crossed her arms. A sullen look appeared on her bespectacled face, drowsy eyes showing her sleepy state.

"What are you waiting for?"

"It's early," Myrtle replied dryly. "Why today? In case you haven't realized, today is a Sunday."

"But today is not just a Sunday, Twin-Tails," Azure said, placing her hands on Myrtle's shoulders. "Today is the 13th of June!"

Myrtle looked at her for some kind of explanation.

"Happy Birthday!" Azure exclaimed before flinging her arms at the petite who blinked owlishly.

She had completely forgotten about it.

To celebrate the twins' birthday meant having Keane as the baker. In their seventh anniversary, he had made a half-lemon and a half-strawberry cake with custard and adorned with milk chocolate flowers. She loved his gifts J. R. R. Tolkien's _The Hobbit _when she was eight years, a wooden puzzle on her tenth birthday, a snow globe he had bought in Paris which almost fell on the floor during one of her fights with Holly...

"I wish you a merry long life, lots of love and chocolates-"

"I prefer other types of sweets," Myrtle cut in coolly. "And I was born two minutes before the 13th of June."

"Details, dear, details," the taller girl added cheekily. "Now, go and dress the uniform under your bathrobe. And don't forget to bring your bathing suit."

"You never change your mind, do you?"

"No. This is me we're talking about!"

Myrtle giggled. "You're impossible."

"Yes, yes, but you love me," Azure retorted with a sunny smile.

Myrtle blushed and returned to the dormitory.

* * *

"We will get caught," Myrtle muttered, walking a few steps behind Azure, who at last stopped in front of a big door and opened it, her left hand beckoning the bespectacled girl with an elegant bow.

"My Lady."

Taking a deep breath, Myrtle entered the room and was instantly bombarded with the sweet smell of rosemary and bath salts. On the end of the room was a giant tub with steam and fluffy-looking foam. "B-but this is…"

"The Prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor," Azure replied with a grin. "I come here sometimes to think."

Myrtle slowly stepped inside the huge space, bespectacled eyes following the direction of the bubbles. "You...made this...for me?" She stuttered, looking at the grinning tall girl.

"You once told me that bubble baths were one of the best things in your life and today…it is also the anniversary of the day you learned you were special. 13th June."

Blushing beet red, she offered Azure a smile. "T...thank you."

"Anytime." Quickly removing her bathrobe and shoes, Azure dived into the tub, the petite gawking at the fact that her best friend had run through the school wearing literally _nothing_ but a bathrobe.

"What if someone finds us?" Myrtle asked nervously, facing Azure who was...wearing a bathing suit? When did she have the time to do that?

"They won't; I cast spells around the bathroom beforehand," Azure replied. "Come on. Don't tell me that you are afraid of a little water?"

"Water? Never," Myrtle said with a smirk. Taking off her clothes, she dipped her foot in the water before diving.

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	34. Chapter 33

**A/N: In this chapter, we have a background for the Hogwarts' Relics, aka the Founders' magical objects. Divination, in this series, is a very important thing. More foreshadowing. ****And we have achieved the turning point on Myrtle and Azure's relationship. **

**Micchi-chan, this one you will love it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" or "Kuroshitsuji", only my OC's.**

**Warnings: lesbian behaviour?**

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**Chapter Thirty-Three: Lessons and Confessions**

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She imagined the water drops starting to fall upwards and reshaping into geometrical solids and small animals. Opening her eyes, she smiled at the result. This was the magic that no one could take away from her. Even if she lost her wand, her magic would always belong to her.

Myrtle was unique and she loved it.

"When I was little, I liked reading fairy tales," Azure said, their bodies floating as they gazed at the dancing figures made of water above them. "My favourite was _The Little Mermaid._ The second was _The_ _Ice Queen_." She smiled. "Both of them are beautiful stories that teach us about the importance of love."

A memory of Myrtle and Holly watching Keane and Grandpa's shadow theatre of _Cinderella_ flashed in her head. "Mine…was _Cinderella_. I imagined being a princess and that a Prince would dance with me at a ball, fall in love with me and we would get our 'happy ever after'." Her lips became a thin line. "But I quickly accepted that sometimes, dreams are dreams."

"And sometimes they're not," Azure retorted softly. "In our world, some dreams are precognitive, something that is shared between Aura Seers and Seers. Since I discovered that chest, I see strange scenes in my dreams. The Hufflepuff Cup may have something to do with it."

"Why?"

"While it could be used as a simple dining utensil, its primary function was related to the Divination Arts, like Professor Tranquilflow explained to us." Azure let out a rueful chuckle. "The Relics…is a subject that her family knows the best."

_"If someone brought the Relics together, he or she would become far more powerful than their wildest dreams…this was how society interpreted the Seer Elia Moria's third and last prophecy before he was murdered in 1450 by a coven of the Dark Wizard Silas's worshippers who stole his magic..."_

_And I thought that the Hallows were bad enough, _Myrtle added wryly in her mind, following after Azure, both swimming toward the tub's edge.

Despite it was not something that had a practical use, except if one had the Inner Eye or was a natural dream-walker, Divination was a subject Myrtle had grown quite fond because their teacher sometimes told them interesting non-magical facts. Outside of the class, Professor Tranquilflow always encouraged her students, counselling them when they needed. But, most of all, she was against House favouritism, contrasting with some of her colleagues.

If she became Headmaster, instead of Dumbledore...

"So, one day I filled the Cup with water and it showed me things," Azure's voice brought Myrtle back to the present. "A sequence of images."

"What kind of images?"

"A black notebook, an old ring with a black stone that contained...the symbol for the Deathly Hallows," Azure answered grimly. "I still can't believe it...the most powerful items in our world are not legends, but very real and the worst of them is in the hands of the most dangerous Dark Wizard of all times and-"

"Focus, Ashlane," Myrtle interrupted, giving her the look that would automatically stop the other's ranting. "You saw a black notebook and a ring. What else?"

Azure sighed and rested her elbows on the stone surface. "Three Hogwarts Relics: Salazar Slytherin's Locket, the Diadem of Lady Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor's Sword. I suppose that my family heirloom doesn't require introductions, right."

Myrtle chortled, remembering their teacher's lesson on the Hogwarts Relics: the Sword belonged to Gryffindor as per an agreement with the Goblin King who at that time ruled Scandinavia. Goblin-made silver, this object could annihilate any dark magic. Gryffindor had supposedly used it to slay a rogue dragon, Killing Curses, _Inferi _and a swarm of _Dementors. _His valour had earned him the respect of Goblins and their allegiance to his bloodline, should a crisis take place. The Sword also glowed in the dark during the full moons.

The Ravenclaw Diadem had been created by Lady Rowena Ravenclaw roughly at the same time as the Cup and would grant knowledge to anyone who wore it. Wearing the Diadem also meant he or she would never lose a battle. The person would become the world's best tactician. Furthermore, it would be capable of understanding all languages, both written and spoken.

As for Slytherin's Locket, its powers included eternal youth (not immortality), increasing one's magic and slowing time itself. However, its creation by Slytherin himself was debatable: some said Salazar Slytherin had fashioned it after another magical item: Concordia's Necklace; Madam Bagshot's theory was that the object had been found in a Greek temple by Slytherin's grandfather who had Greek heritage from his mother's side of the family.

However, some believed it had been crafted and cursed by the powerful Dark Wizard Herpo as revenge against one of his enemies before being stolen by an ambitious merchant who lost his life to raiders two moons later. According to the lore, one of the raiders had kept the locket in his pocket and would lose it in a fight with a rival, making the object end up in the bottom of a lake. Sometime later, it would be found by a young woman called Medusa...who was also a _Parselmouth_.

Finally, the Cup. Professor Tranquilflow had described it as a "most prized object by Seers that could amplify their Inner Eye" that was to be passed from mother to daughter, starting with its creator, Helga Hufflepuff. The object itself drew its inspiration from the water basins that a clan used to divine events. Composed of Greek immigrants, the clan would choose a small island as their new place of residence, eventually becoming the House of Tranquilflow.

"So, five objects in total?"

Azure shook her head. "I also saw a snake, the so-called Chamber of Secrets. It was just like Mordred wrote in his journal."

Myrtle shivered. According to the Tranquilflow Archives, Salazar Slytherin had found Mordred, a warlock who had never stepped a foot inside of Hogwarts because his magical power had been sealed by his parents. He had taken the young prodigy under his wing, instructing him on the Dark Arts. Also a renowned dream-walker, Mordred was said to enter anyone's dreams and twisting them, driving people mad.

"Inside of it, I saw someone with long auburn-red hair lying on the floor…she looked so pale," Azure went on, sadness in her voice. "And I saw two pairs of eyes: the first had blackest of brown irises. But the other…was green, brimming with life and love. After that day, I began seeing those images in my dreams, which was a big change compared to the nightmares I had with Grindelwald, my almost-abduction and…Serge's torture."

Myrtle nodded sympathetically. Serge was Azure's cousin who had lost his wife and sanity at the hands of Vinda Celia Rosier. Six-year-old Azure had Seen scenes of the vicious attack, not all of it, but still enough to bring about an almost haunted look in her eyes one decade later. "Is it any different how?"

"Those images were replaced by another scene: I am in my nine-years-old self standing in front of the door to the Chamber of Secrets and I am about to give my hand to someone with dark hair. I can't see him well."

"Can you describe him?"

"Tall and a Hogwarts student. He has a Slytherin tie and his eyes...are insidious."

"That boy…could not be the Heir of Slytherin, right?" The petite girl said uncertainly. "I mean, the Chamber, the Heir, and the Basilisk…all of that is just a story to scare Muggle-borns!"

"Myrtle, promise me one thing!"

Myrtle blinked at the pleading tone of the Slytherin who had placed her arms on her shoulders firmly. "Azure?" Instead of an answer, she felt the blush on her cheeks reddening as she noted the proximity of their faces, their noses and lips…

Then, she felt a soft pecking on her lips followed by a pair of lips locking with her own. Surprised, she shied away, one hand on her lips as she tasted the remains of apples and chocolate. "What did you-"

"I have no idea how this happened!" Azure blurted. "Don't be angry with me…"

Myrtle blushed even more. "I am not angry. It was just unexpected. But I…am happy because it was you. I was thinking of doing that…since the wedding," she admitted shyly, twirling one wet hair lock and placing it behind her ear. "But I never thought that our friendship could evolve into something more…"

"Intimate?" Azure finished sheepishly, one finger scratching her cheek. "I don't understand it very well...what does this mean in your world?"

"Well, a woman with another woman is…different, but not as frowned upon as a male homosexual relationship," Myrtle replied calmly. She had been lectured _a lot_ on the subject. "Within the course of his or her life, sexual preferences can change sometimes. But strictly speaking from a Christian perspective, a male-female relationship is proof of true commitment in the eyes of the Lord. We marry in a church, although there is something called civil marriage."

"Civil marriage?" Azure asked with a tilt of her head. "So…no church or priest?"

Myrtle shook her head. "You sign the paper, pardon, a contract, and the State approves your marital union. But in Ireland, a wedding church is the norm. Furthermore, the christening, the first communion and the chrism are three important ceremonies that strengthen one's bond with our community's church. Holly and I had the first communion when we were seven. After the ceremony, the local priest tried to exorcise me with holy water. Our parents explained that there was nothing wrong with me and he just continued staring as if I had sprouted a second head. He probably sensed I was a witch."

"It is a fact that non-magicals have…sensitivity to magic. Hunters and people with high spiritual awareness are two good examples," Azure conceded. "Children and animals are also much more perceptive than the typical adult, isn't that right, level-headed and sometimes or rarely Moaning Myrtle?"

Myrtle placed her hands in a reprehending gesture, throwing a fake-glare at the taller girl. "Sometimes or rarely moaning?"

"You haven't lived up to that 'Moaning Myrtle' nickname as of last year, Twin-tails," Azure explained, eyelashes blinking constantly. "It must be because of my good influence."

Myrtle gave Azure a small smile. "More like a bad influence", she corrected, blushing when the other girl cupped her cheeks, soft lips pecking hers.

"I love you," the tall girl whispered tenderly. "For now and as long as I live."

Myrtle reciprocated the kiss and pleaded for her heart to calm down, resting her palm with the other girl's. "I love you," she echoed, her forehead now leaning against Azure's, the feeling of pure bliss widening her smile. "More than words can express."

Everything would be all right with Azure by her side. She just knew it.

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	35. Chapter 34

**A/N: Myrtle's Birthday Celebration Part Two!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "Fantastic Beasts" and "Kuroshitsuji". I only own my OC's.**

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**Chapter Thirty-Four: The "Tricolour Trio" **

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She smoothed the wrinkles on the gymslip and stuffed the bathrobe and other personal items in her pouch. Once she removed all spells, she turned to Myrtle who was syphoning all the water into a flask without the need of a wand.

Myrtle's wandless magic was beautiful to see. Silently, she activated her Aura Sight and smiled; the petite's Aura was shining so bright…like the stars in the night sky.

_"'It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye'"_, Azure heard Myrtle quote as they left the bathroom. "From _The Little Prince_, a book written by Antoine-Saint-Exupéry."

"Which character says it?" She asked after exchanging greetings with a pair of Ghosts.

"A fox when it is talking with the protagonist," Myrtle replied. "He is a young prince living on an asteroid and cares for a rose he keeps under a glass globe. The rose is his only friend until he decides to travel to other planets and meets new people, places, and animals..."

_That only makes me more interested, _she thought before hugging Myrtle, who return the hug. "Thank you, Myrtle...for accepting to be my girlfriend."

Myrtle smiled and gave her a quick kiss, her hand taking hers. "Someone very wise once told me that if you don't try, you will never know. I now know it and I am not afraid...because you are here with me."

One thing was students from different Houses having lunch together. But two girls from different Houses becoming a couple? That meant that there would be a new topic of juvenile gossip; in Hogwarts, news flew very quickly…

As they entered the Great Hall, they noticed several heads turning around, followed by incredulous gasps or sneers.

"'Zure, Myrtle!" Ru greeted as they sat in front of him. "Did anythin' 'appen?"

She grabbed some apples, spinach, chocolate cookies and shepherd's pie. "Something happened indeed," she replied cryptically, throwing a suggestive glance at a flustered Myrtle who explained that Azure had convinced her to go to the Prefects Bathroom where both of them had finally confessed their feelings.

Ru grinned before giving a high-five to Justin Corner who was sitting on the bench behind him, some junior students saying "pay up" to their neighbours.

Hell, even Monfay was smiling a Cheshire-Cat-smile as Charlus Potter gave her some coins before muttering something like "but I am your cousin's best mate". She retorted with a curt "business is business."

_A betting ring_, Azure mused, glancing at a raven-haired girl counting coins in their year's Slytherin table. _As expected of a resourceful snake._

"What is inside of that?" Myrtle asked, pointing to the white box that was next to their friend's empty plate.

"Something," he replied, resuming peeling his orange. "Meet up at four in our usual spot and yeh' will know."

Myrtle frowned and lowering her voice to a menacing whisper, "If it is another hairy thing with eight legs and too many eyes-

"It's not that," he cut her off, worry clear in his eyes. "Aragog...said that Hogwarts is no longer safe for him or anyone."

Aragog was the _Acromantula _he was keeping in the dungeons inside of an old chest and feeding him – yes, he was a male – with bread crumbles and a couple of mice.

Myrtle didn't like spiders; in fact, the _Boggart_ lesson had ended with her making the spider being stuck on the floor with some kind of gooey substance. When it was Azure's turn, the _Boggart_ had shaped into the late Vinda Rosier and then a snake-faced man with _red_ eyes, making her have another of her narcolepsy crisis.

"I have the feelin' that Tom found out about the you-know-what," he whispered seriously.

A pair of dark blue eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. _Why hasn't the "Perfect Prefect" report to the Headmaster about it yet? Those twits' job is tattling others…so, what is his endgame? _

"Spiders are not very edible, unlike grasshoppers," Ru's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Real tasty fer Thailand and Burma peoples. Yeh' can find more in Professor Wood's fifth book, chapter eight. Professor Scamander wrote the second half."

"Bugs are also full of proteins," Azure added with a teasing grin to Myrtle who gave the taller girl a deadpan look.

"That does not make me feel better at all."

* * *

"Hello, Buckbeak!"

Buckbeak rose his head, crowing twice in recognizance of the trio. Named by Hagrid, he was also the eldest of five siblings. Myrtle had chosen the name "Hols" while Azure had come up with the name "Ethel" for the last and the only girl. Hols was a bit sickly, so it was not common for them to see her. Ethel, being the youngest and very shy, didn't feel comfortable around strangers. Every Friday afternoon, they liked to visit the baby hippogriffs.

"Ain' yeh' beautiful?" He cooed, tickling the foal's chin.

Azure was the first to greet him, deeply bowing before Buckbeak. It didn't take too long for the hippogriff to react, his head also bowing. Swallowing thickly, Myrtle slowly approached the creature who turned his curious eyes on her.

_"Animals are extraordinary judges of character, little Doe,"_ Aunt Siobhan had explained while Myrtle tentatively rested her palm on a pony's neck. _"They know that inner beauty is more important than one's looks."_

Taking a deep breath, she mimicked Azure, sighing of relief when Buckbeak bowed. Suddenly, she felt a weight on her hands and looked down, finding the white box. "For me?" She asked Azure who winked. "Can I open it?"

Identical grins appeared on Azure and Hagrid's faces, followed by a chorus, "Go ahead!"

She lifted the lid, mouth opening in surprise: inside of the box was a fruit cake with lots of crystallized pieces of fruit and the words _"Happy Birthday, Myrtle!"_ written in blue and green chocolate _ganache_.

Suddenly, her friends began singing – rather loudly – the "Happy Birthday Song", Buckbeak crowing along.

* * *

Her hand squeezed the flask, letting the delicious dark chocolate cream fall on the caramelized apples that decorated the top of the fruit cake.

Funtom Chocolate_ is the best, _she gushed after eating some of this new combination. Looking up, she saw Buckbeak sleeping on Ru's lap and cursed herself for not bringing her camera and capture the moment.

_Or I could paint it,_ she added in her mind, happily eating another portion. _Ru will love it!_

"We know how much you enjoy nurturing magical creatures," Myrtle commented with an encouraging smile. "With some training, you will be a great magizoologist like Mr Scamander."

"Do yeh' really believe that?" The Gryffindor asked quietly. "My Giant blood…people will talk."

Myrtle scoffed. "Let them! You have a good heart, Hagrid," she placed her arms on his shoulders, bespectacled eyes looking seriously at him. "Be more confident in yourself."

Azure clapped vigorously and smiled; for Myrtle to try to raise someone's self-esteem...she had indeed come a long way.

"An explorer, a medic and a magizoologist," Ru said, more to himself before grinning. "We make a great team, don' we?"

"If Holly had gotten the letter, she could be our group's badger," Myrtle pondered aloud. "She works hard and is dedicated when she wants to."

"Or she would join those fan-girls because if I remember, your dear little sister has a thing for dark, tall and handsome boys," Azure retorted. "During the wedding reception, Lord Ichijō got himself a new admirer in the groom's younger sister until his fiancée politely asked her to 'back off'. Another admirer of the twit is what this school does _not _need."

Myrtle chortled. "Tom Riddle is not the only boy who fills those requirements. And you forget one thing: Holly fancies boys with green eyes."

"That would reduce the number of male students to exactly 459: 30% Gryffindors,", "20% Ravenclaws, 40% Hufflepuffs and 10% Slytherins," the messy-haired informed before eating a bit of her caramelized apples mixed with chocolate. "All shades included, of course."

Their friend chuckled nervously. "That's scary, 'Zure. Yeh're scary."

Azure waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I prefer the term 'well-informed'. You can never get enough of that."

The trio exchanged a laugh.

"The other day, she wrote to me she wants to go to college and become a successful lawyer." Myrtle sighed fondly. "She would be the first of the family."

"In that case, we would no longer be the 'Tricolour Trio'," Ru remarked before frowning. "Weird name, that one."

"And lazy," Azure added. "Believe me, I would choose something different."

"As in something special that defines us, more than stupid rivalries and blood purity?" Myrtle supplied, undisguised disdain seeping from her last words.

"Like when Dumbledore asked us to imagine our _Animagus_ form?" Ru guessed hopefully, mid-eating an orange slice.

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**Please, review!**


	36. Chapter 35

**A/N: More foreshadowing. And Animagus forms, because Micchi-chan was very curious about them...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" or "Kuroshitsuji", only my OC's.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Five: The Badger's Ambition**

* * *

When the day came, she had been extremely nervous - practical exams were not her forte. After more than twelve tries, she had finally got it right and could not help but be surprised by the result.

"I was mad chuffed when they told me I had gotten an 'E'," Ru was saying dreamily. "An 'E' in Transfiguration? I thought I was dreamin', but it ain' no dream." He laughed. "How did it go fer yeh', Myrtle?"

Myrtle hummed before replying, "It could have been worse if Minnie hadn't helped me practising for it." A blush appeared on her face. "I turned into a doe. They are shy animals..."

_And symbols of innocence, _Azure added inwardly with a soft smile, imagining a doe running in the meadow. Calmly eating her cake, she glanced at the pig-tailed girl who she would protect as long as she could. _Your duckling is the same. You have seen how harsh the world is and yet you remain untouched by it._

"And you, Azure?"

"_Demiguise," _the Slytherin answered, quickly drawing the animal's shape with her wand. "Though, Potter should get that one because of his cloak. Too bad he doesn't use it for something productive." She snorted. "Pranking is not a beneficial activity for the third son of the Potter family."

"I think it suits you; you sometimes disappear before reappearing," Myrtle offered, smiling at her. "And you are very protective of your own."

He gave a hearty laugh. "That's our 'Zure; always takin' care of people!"

Azure grinned at the compliments before asking the Gryffindor, "What did you become, Ru?"

"_Niffler_. Come to think of it, Pops's friend offered me one when I was a kid…funny."

Azure chortled before laughing. She was expecting him to be an elephant or a bear. "You're a platypus-porcupine hybrid that is attracted to shiny things?"

"Don't remind me of that," Myrtle added a bit sourly, magically cleaning out her empty plate. "The baby _Niffler_ we had to raise during last year's Christmas Holidays sucked every tableware and glassware from my grandparents' kitchen just half an hour before our annual family dinner."

"Blimey..." Ru muttered. "Mine was pretty time. She only ate and slept."

"But they can be tricky little fellows," Azure supplied, remembering the mayhem she found herself involved in when Grandmother Benoîte's ward let six of them loose accidentally inside of the Rougepierre _Château_ some years ago. " The fact they are invisible to non-magicals also brings up a lot of questions." She turned to the girl at her side. "Which tend to never be answered."

"This time, no one needed to be _Obliviated_," Myrtle supplied wryly. "But the _Niffler_ allowed Holly to pet him. She can see what I see. Dumbledore did tell us that twins can develop magic at different stages of their lives. Holly's could be just...asleep."

"One activates his or her magic, while the other doesn't until adult age," Azure added, her hand under her chin. "A latent-type…those are rare."

A few minutes passed.

"We need to change that name," Ru muttered before snapping his fingers. "Maybe 'Ravindor''!"

"'Ravindor?'" Myrtle cackled. "Did you just shortened and combined our Houses' names?"

"I guess I did?" He replied before pointing his fork at them. "Dare yeh' two ta think of somethin' better."

The petite gave him a challenging look. "It's on, Hagrid."

_Ravindor…that sounds like the name of a plant…or an exotic place, _Azure thought before lying on the grass, arms behind her head as she thought about the events thought led to this moment…

Slytherin, the House of the White Wizards and Dark Wizards. Founded by a _Parselmouth_ who only accepted Pure-bloods and the occasional Half-blood. The House that would allow her to reach her goal.

Cunning, ambition and resourcefulness were important qualities she could not throw away. It was like that old French saying: "_Rome ne fu[t] pas faite toute en un jour_", or in English, "Rome was not built in a day".

And she had a lot to build.

If she wasn't a Slytherin, she would not meet Myrtle and Ru in the same circumstances. Slytherin would continue to be the "Darkest House" and Myrtle would eventually quit school or, worst-case scenario, throw herself off the Astronomy Tower…

She had to believe she could change things for the better. "_To believe is the first step." _Great-uncle had written that in his journal, a journal she had read many times and made her imagine what was the world outside the Ashlane Manor's gates.

A world she too wanted to see and consequently, find her way of acceptance.

Strangely enough, Ashlanes – except Wizard-borns or those who married into the family – tended to end up in Hufflepuff.

But, five years ago, the pattern had been broken...

* * *

_"ASHLANE, AZURELIA."_

_When the Professor in charge – Professor Selwyn - read loud and clear her name, Azure felt uneasy again. It was not because she'd have to spend seven years of her life learning magic inside of a castle, but because of a boy who was obediently waiting for the Sortation like the rest of the first-years._

_The same boy with whom she had shared a train compartment. The boy who had calmly looked into her eyes and introduced himself as "Tom Riddle". After she had returned the greeting, her Aura Sight had unwillingly been activated and she Saw the boy's Aura: there was a dark ring around it. _

_Biting her lip, she went to the stool and exhaled once the Sorting Hat was placed above her head. _"Hmm…so you're this generation's Ashlane. Hufflepuff should be the obvious choice. I can sense the loyalty in your spirit, but there's something about you."

I've been told that a lot, Mr Hat. I also have a bit of a temper, if that helps you choose.

_The Hat's chuckle echoed in her mind. _You have logic on your side and you don't always use it. Godric could welcome you in his House but…you are connected to a legacy of greatness. Drive, ambition...yes, very ambitious indeed. And that's why it must be…SLYTHERIN!"

_For a few seconds, silence took over. Then, unlike the other times in which they welcomed someone they knew who belonged to the "good sort", Slytherins began clapping politely. _

_She thanked the Hat before joining her new Housemates. Resting her hands on her chin, she watched the Sortation continue for fifteen minutes before placing her arms on the table and laying her head there. Closing her eyes, she could now barely hear Professor Selwyn's amplified voice calling out the names…_

_"RIDDLE, TOM."_

_"Riddle? That's not a Wizarding name," a male voice scoffed. "I bet five sickles that he goes to Ravenclaw." _

_"It's not a Wizarding name since the fall of Queen Elizabeth I," a second voice corrected, this one belonging to a girl. "By the way, I double that bet. Most Riddles were Slytherins, save for the first four Countesses and the last two Earls."_

_Some voices whistled and the male voice from before let out a derisive chuckle. "Your loss, Vega."_

_"SLYTHERIN!" _

_She heard the familiar polite clapping and tried not to yawn, failing miserably. Opening her eyes, she found several pairs of eyes glaring at her. She straightened up and cracked her neck before glancing at Riddle. He gave her an acknowledging nod, which she returned with a lazy wave, her other hand covering a yawn._

_"Call me that again and you will regret it, Black," the girl threatened the raven-haired boy with bluish-grey eyes that were too similar to that man. "Now, I believe you owe me something."_

_"My father will hear about this; a Mudblood and the Blood-traitor Ashlane in Slytherin," that peacock of a boy called Abraxas Malfoy complained, throwing a disdainful glance at Azure who smiled politely, inwardly plotting a way to get back at him. Perhaps a new haircut. "Hiring Muggle-loving teachers...in Durmstrang, this would never happen."_

_ "MCKINNON, CLARA," Professor Selwyn's amplified voice rang through the Great Hall as Black produced a small pouch and grudgingly gave it to the girl. _

_ "He is so beautiful…" swooned a coffee-brown haired girl before pouting to a girl sitting next to her. "Why did he have to be a Mudblood, Roxy?"_

_"RAVENCLAW!" Enthusiastic clapping was once again heard._

_"Who knows…he might be a half. Half is better than nothing," the Roxy girl said with a shrug before glancing in the direction of the Ravenclaw table's third-year section. _

_"Cyril, isn't Riddle the Mudblood you said he could do wandless magic?" Reynard Lestrange whispered to a blond. _

_Azure felt her heart skip a beat in fear. _A Dark Aura _and_ wandless magic? This is bad. Grindelwald-bad.

_Cyril chortled. "He is no Mudblood, Rey. Not when he carries a powerful middle name with him."_

_A girl next to him rose an unimpressed eyebrow. "Meaning?"_

_ "Marvolo," he revealed smugly. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."_

_A brunet that was sitting next to Lestrange leaned forward, a mix of surprise and awe in his eyes. "Marvolo, as in…"_

_"Yes, Nott. That Marvolo," a boy with strawberry-blond hair said before grinning. "It was about time we had a Gaunt attending this school."_

_"Weird family that one," Nolan smith - the hag's great-nephew snorted, pushing away some of his sandy-blond hair locks away from his right eye. "Let's hope their descendant doesn't turn out mad like the last Head."_

* * *

That night, as they were escorted to the dungeons by the Prefects, she had caught up with Riddle, grabbed his arm and looked at him in the eye, releasing him when she felt a headache.

About one week later, she had found Riddle in the Common Room with a snake, his eyes never leaving it as it slithered around his sleeve almost tenderly. She could swear she had heard him hissing something to the reptile that had hissed something in return.

He was a Parselmouth, a skill that earned him the respect of other Slytherins, including the older ones. He began acting as a Pure-blood would, the opposite of herself who was known as the "Blood-traitor of Slytherin"…

"'Zure, what about 'The Three Musketeers'?"

The taller girl opened her eyes and hummed, pondering the suggestion.

_There are parallels…in the novel, the foursome's bond withstood against all obstacles._

Furthermore, each of them came from very different backgrounds: Athos was a devout Christian, D'Artagnan was the son of peasants, Aramis was especially ambitious and he had a love for poetry and arts – including the art of wooing women – and Porthos enjoyed food as much as he loved his friends.

But they were all loyal to each other. They helped out each other. One for all and all for one.

The Musketeers of Hogwarts were also connected by a bond: three different people whose friendship was the embodiment of defiance against old prejudices.

Azure grinned in approval. "I like it."

She was an ambitious badger. She wanted to be the pioneer of that great change; no more bullying among students because of their blood status, no more stupid House Cups, no more slavery of magical creatures. Perhaps not now nor the next generation, but…things would be different.

"They were four, not three!" Myrtle pointed hotly. "Who's the fourth member?"

As if on purpose, Buckbeak woke up and crowed once in a "count me in" way.

"We got our answer: Buckbeak!" Azure replied. Myrtle and Rubeus exchanged a confused look. "He could be D'Artagnan!" Buckbeak crowed again, clearly agreeing with the decision. "He is brave and fierce…as well the youngest of us."

Ru nodded thoughtfully. "And yeh'?"

"Aramis, the secretive and ambitious one," Azure answered before smiling at the Ravenclaw. "Myrtle, you are perfect for Athos, the most rational and mature," she turned to their burly friend. "Ru, you would be the extrovert and very much dedicated Porthos..." She chuckled. "Dedicated to food, should be more correct."

Myrtle giggled. "You already have the belly to prove it!"

Ru feigned being offended by the comment before slapping his bloated belly. "All muscle 'ere!"

They exchanged laughs. Her wand at the ready, Myrtle rose from her spot. Guessing what was on the Ravenclaw's mind, Azure mimicked her. Ru did the same and they placed their respective wands in a circle. "One for all…"

"…AND ALL FOR ONE!"

Red sparkles, light blue and white ribbons of light and a jet of bubbles came out of the wands' tips. Buckbeak crowed three times, his small wings displayed in pride.

The Musketeers of Hogwarts were ready to enter the scene and shake up things.

* * *

**Please, review! **


	37. Chapter 36

**A/N: Thank you for all of your reviews, Micchi-chan. We are nearing the end of the first book...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter". I only own my OC's.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Six: The Riddled Spider Web**

* * *

As the newly-formed couple walked the second floor, Azure realized they had passed by a wall in which used to be a message in blood. Their friend had left them some while ago due to an "emergency". Both were aware that he was going to the dungeons where he kept Aragog. To make things more difficult, the Headmaster had reinforced the curfew that began at nine on the dot, which meant Ru had to be careful or he would get caught.

Despite the students grudgingly accepting it, the curfew was the school's last preventive measure against the strange incidents that had occurred since mid-October: first-years and second-years getting attacked at night and not recalling anything about it, stray _Bludgers_ seriously injuring students outside of the Quidditch training grounds…

The majority of them were Muggle-borns, including three that had been found Petrified on 27th May, 5th June and 9th June, respectively: the third-year Hufflepuff Leonard Fairchild, the second year Ravenclaw-Wilma Embers and the fourth-year Gryffindor Hung Chang.

At the same time, threatening messages had appeared on some corridors, all of them addressed to the "Enemies of the Heir".

She knew it was _their_ doing, as in the students who bullied others because of "lesser blood status". Suspiciously, almost all of them were in Slytherin and gravitated towards Riddle. His two most frequent companions were Avery and Lestrange, the former being someone who tormented girls just for kicks...

Biting her lip, she recalled the duel against Avery in 24th November 1939. She had gone first, throwing an "_Expelliarmus_". He had easily avoided it and aimed a "_Carpe Retractum",_ which she could not deflect. Gasping for air as the chain tightened around her neck, she quickly glanced at a calm face in the audience: Tom Riddle. Wand pointed out at the end of the chain, she yelled "_Reducto_", destroying it in pieces.

Furiously kicking the wand out of Avery's hand, she had grabbed his tie and punched him. He fell to the ground, muttering the words "Blood-traitor". If those Prefects hadn't stopped her from hitting him again, Avery's bruised ego would not be the only thing he had to heal.

Months later, she would repeat the second year. In March of 1942, she met Myrtle Elizabeth Warren. Once she learned about her classmate's situation, she decided to take charge; whenever a student's life had been endangered intentionally by other students – she never forgot a face or a name – she would become violent towards the culprits, not discriminating by gender, as certain annoying blondes could attest.

She hated bullying, period.

"If we are the Musketeers," Myrtle began to say as they passed by many portraits, some of the people depicted there gathering around and placing bets, eyes glancing at the face-down cards on the table. "Who would be Cardinal Richelieu?"

Azure blinked at the sudden question. Cardinal Richelieu. The foursome's enemy. Unlike Roquefort who was explicitly an enemy and later an ally of D'Artagnan, Richelieu had remained highly antagonistic towards the Musketeers until the end of the novel.

Only the twit was perfect for the role. Richelieu had many contacts and was always plotting something to discredit the protagonists. Riddle was the same; he had a lot of influence and he was a true believer in blood purity. A member of the "Slug Club" she also reluctantly belonged to – although she never interacted with them in Professor Slughorn's parties, excusing herself with a "narcolepsy crisis" that she was sure Professor Slughorn didn't completely believe it –, he was the leader of his little not-so-much merry band of "friends".

She clicked her tongue at the last word. _Minions would be the correct word._

"Well?"

"My first Potions partner," she almost spat. Yesterday, she had noticed the twit looking at her, the usual polite smile replaced by a predatory one. The message was clear: something will happen soon and you will not be able to do a thing to stop it.

_But what? What could possibly happen? What is he waiting for? _

Suddenly, flashes of a bathroom stall different from the others and of a dream replayed in her mind.

"Azure…hey, Azure!" The petite kept shaking her, but no sound came off the other's mouth. A trickle of blood began falling down her lips and nose. "Azure!"

She coughed and looked at her trembling hand, eyes widening at the red liquid on her palm. "I want you to promise me…" She rasped at Myrtle, coughing more blood. "...for the next days, stay away from that bathroom on the first floor. If you find yourself crying, do not enter that bathroom!"

"Forget about that!" Myrtle snapped, grabbing Azure's hand and pulling it forward. "We need to get you to Madam Burnett!"

"Listen to me! In my last dream...the Heir of Slytherin and I…we opened the Chamber," she said shakily, feeling the blood travelling down her neckline. "And you died on that bathroom."

Collapsing on the floor, she started convulsing, blood seeping from her again-opened scars on her wrists, her head being invaded by a series of memories…memories of a familiar handsome face smiling coldly at her, promises of death and suffering being whispered to her ear as she realized she would be forced to forget the truth about Hogwarts' prodigy…

Memories she was supposed to forget.

"R…Rid…" She tried to say, the words coming out as a strangled sound. _Damn him!_

"_Anapneo!" _Myrtle cried, pointing her wand at Azure's body.

She coughed again, sensing the effects of the spell easing the block on her throat. Myrtle kneeled before her, bespectacled eyes full of concern. "Azure..."

"G-go..."

"What?"

"Go back to your room and stay there," Azure said between gasps while desperately grabbing Myrtle's shoulders. "You are in danger...please, j-just go...before it's too late."

"What are you talking about?" The petite asked weakly. "You're scaring me..."

Gritting her teeth, she managed to say, "He will kill you-"

_"Petrificus Totalus." _

Rigidness took over her body, though she could hear the sound of shoes approaching them. She cursed herself for her carelessness.

The spider had made its move…and they were now caught in its web.

* * *

The girls' frozen bodies had fallen to the ground like flat boards. Ashlane had that desperate look he had seen countless times directed at the other's eyes who showed equal concern and alarm for the former.

He then pointed the wand at Mudblood's forehead before pausing in his intentions of _Obliviate_ her. While the original plan was that they would forget about each other's existence, he had promised to the taller one that she would watch as he commanded the Serpent of Slytherin to kill the ignorant bespectacled girl, while the other girl felt nothing but helplessness. And Tom Riddle always kept his promises.

_From what I had been told about this girl, she was constantly pushed around by her classmates until Ashlane interfered. One of them was particularly adamant in tormenting her…_

"Avery," he addressed his "friend" who was harshly nudging the Mudblood's face with his shoe. "Who was the Mudblood's worst enemy before she met Ashlane?"

"Some Ravenclaw named Hornby…Olive. Olive Hornby," Avery replied nonchalantly. "Very fit for a fourteen, blonde, Half-blood. She was always making the Mudblood cry, calling her constantly 'Moaning Myrtle'. The Mudblood would lock herself in the girl's bathroom on the first floor for hours. In fact, she hated this school and attempted to off herself. She is nothing special as a student. Or even as a girl." He looked down at Ashlane with contempt. "Until the day we got this spanner thrown in the works."

Avery was the most knowledgeable when it came to intelligence on the school's female body. Beneath his "ladies man" mask was someone who tormented girls he was seeing or not. Usually, the girl was rational enough to keep her mouth shut, fearing to be cursed or worse. Sometimes Avery ended up cursing them…because it amused him.

"Now, not even that Hagrid is seen without being in the company of this couple," Lestrange spat, kicking harshly the plain girl's backside. "A Mudblood and a _traître de sang_ together. _C'est repugnant_."

Tom dismissed this as another proof of how Ashlane had grown weaker than the last years. The hatred and the defiance were always there but she had made others an easy target. It would be a pleasure to watch how she slowly became overwhelmed by pain and grief at the loss of her "loved" ones.

He only needed someone secluded to test his theory – to simply Petrify Mudbloods was no longer enough for him if he wanted Ashlane to truly suffer by his hand and at the same time, create _it_. And her Mudblood was too much of an opportunity to not let pass by. He allowed himself a wry smile; that Muggle saying "know thy enemy" was accurate.

"Lord Voldemort?" Lestrange called respectfully. "What are your orders?"

Tom's smile widened, the thrill of the kill making his body tremble of excitement.

Now, how to make sure the Mudblood would go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, breaking curfew…

Then, he had an idea. And all he needed was that Hornby girl.

"Olive Hornby's memories are about to change a teeny bit...may I be of assistance?"

Unsurprisingly, Avery was the one who had answered; he had a quick-thinking Tom grudgingly admitted to "like" – in fact, he didn't like anyone or anything – making him a good pawn to use. He was as good as any Slytherin: cunning, ambitious and resourceful.

"Don't take too much or the suspicions will grow," Tom replied smoothly. "Collins 'partial amnesia' was quickly identified as a memory-altering Charm."

"Always worried. But you know how careful I am. I won't fail."

_Failure is not an option, Avery, _the Prefect thought darkly as his Knight left the corridor to carry out a very delicate task. _Not for any of Lord Voldemort's followers. _

He sent a curt nod to Lestrange, the latter pulling Ashlane's Petrified body out of the ground like a sack of potatoes. The Heir of Slytherin knew that despite this state, she was still conscious during the entire time, making this a lot more entertaining. "It will happen tonight, Ashlane," he whispered to his enemy, his fingers mock-caressing her tears. "And the only thing you will be able to do is to watch."

Turning to Lestrange, he ordered his Knight to take her to the Hospital Wing. "Make sure you're not seen," he warned the brunet, who bowed before doing as he had been told. Tom pointed his wand at the Warren girl.

Ashlane had sealed this Mudblood's fate when she met her.

"_Imperio_." As the sweet-smelling aroma of the Curse hit his target, he started to mentally instruct the girl's mind, her eyes becoming glassy. "_Finite." _

The girl began walking towards the direction of the Ravenclaw Tower. Smirking, he went in the opposite direction.

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**Please, review!**


	38. Chapter 37

**A/N: The title says it all...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", Eris and "Kuroshitsuji". I only own my OC's.**

**Warnings: Avery being the sexual offender he is. I am strongly considering to kill him off on the fourth book. **

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**Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Death of Myrtle Elizabeth Warren**

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She had no idea why her body was trembling, nor why she felt like she was inside of a sauna. Taking a sharp breath, Azure rose from the hospital bed and touched her face, frowning at the moisture. Tears. But why? And why was she in the Hospital Wing?

"Ashlane," McGonagall said coolly. "Madam Burnett specifically ordered you to rest. It would do you no good to suffer another narcolepsy crisis."

"A narcolepsy crisis?" She asked more to herself than to the Prefect. "But did you see Myrtle?"

"I was on my patrol duty when she passed by me," McGonagall replied. "She was crying. I called her and she ignored me. When I mentioned your name – which usually lulls her – she simply said she wanted to be left alone in her bathroom. She told me that she needed no one. I tried to reach out to her when she pointed her wand at and hit me with a _Stupefy_. But that look in her eyes…was vacant, without Soul."

Her eyes widened in alarm at McGonagall's description, her head throbbing with pain as memories came back to her: she and Myrtle being Petrified by Riddle, Myrtle's body being mistreated by Lestrange and Avery, Avery's malicious grin as he went to find Hornby, Riddle remorselessly looking at her and whispering that what she feared the most, what had caused her to have night terrors, was going to happen tonight.

Quickly grabbing her wand, she left the Wing as fast as she could. Finding the special passage that led straight to the first floor, she drew out her wand once she reached her destination, taking in the scene in front of her: the unnerving smirk on Riddle's face, an angry-looking, tear-eyed Myrtle stepping out of her stall and demanding harshly for him to go away, her glasses gripped by her shaky hand.

He grabbed Myrtle's forearm, holding her in place, as he spoke to her. Myrtle just stood there, unresponsive.

Clutching her wand even tighter, Azure ran towards the bathroom, finding herself repelled by a magic barrier that began at the doorstep of the dim-illuminated space. Her fists desperately knocked against the barrier, but to no avail; the bloody thing's magic was too advanced for her.

She had _Dagan_ ready to point at the wall, a spell to blast it on her lips when someone caught her hand harshly, twisting it behind her back. Wincing in pain, she dropped the piece of wood automatically.

"We can't have none of that, Ashlane," a male voice close to her ear chided lowly, fresh breath fanning the nape of her neck as another hand touched her shoulder before she felt his arm cut off her air supply. "My Lord made you a promise…that you would watch the Mudblood's death."

"Avery," she wheezed as she attempted to make him release the hold on her neck unsuccessfully. "Hornby….you did something to her and he did it to Myrtle as well. If it was not for that, she would not be here."

"Five points for quick reasoning, he sneered back. "But tonight you will be just a spectator because we don't need brave knights to rescue damsels in distress. Well, your Mudblood damsel is not much to look at. The plainest face I've ever seen."

Azure's mismatched eyes flared with anger at the insult. "S…shut up! You and the rest of the twit's Knights cannot understand what is caring for someone...or what love truly means!"

The chokehold she had been put in was now on the verge of blocking her vocal cords.

"I did say to be careful with the way you address your betters. Honestly, I have no idea why he insists on keeping you alive. I would not care if the Basilisk took care of you too, despite the fact you are a Pure-blood," he continued, his other hand releasing hers and snaking around her waist teasingly. She gritted her teeth and kicked herself for this vulnerable position. "But he wants you to suffer and if you get an easy death, it will not be as fun as it is for him so...keep your eyes peeled..." He nibbled at her ear, his fingertip tracing her cheek. "And bear witness to what happens to those around you, Blood-traitor."

And, reluctantly, she did as she felt him lessen the pressure on her throat. She saw the top of the sinks floating above, one of them on the centre – that had never worked – had become a passageway opening in the wall next to the sink, revealing a dark hole where a giant serpent could fit in.

Her eyes widened with terror as the ancient creature crawled its way out and bowed before its "Master".

The epithet of "King of Snakes" did this creature justice; with an enormous body and a mouth full of poisonous teeth, the Basilisk was one of the most dangerous creatures that walked the earth. Its only weakness was the rooster's crow, which explained the attack on the school's coops.

"MYRTLE!" She cried as Myrtle looked in its direction and her frozen body fell to the ground before the Basilisk returned to its lair due to Riddle's command.

Released from the chokehold, Azure ran through the previous magic barrier, falling on her knees next to the younger girl's body whose horrified expression befitted someone who had been scared to death. The limbs' rigidness - she was still gripping her glasses - cemented the sad fact that the bespectacled girl was no longer alive.

"No, please no. It's a dream. It's not real." Sobbing, she touched the petite's face, two fingers on her neck as she hopefully waited to hear the faintest pulse. "No…"

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"Aura Seers…such sensitive, self-sacrificing and empathetic creatures," Eris remarked before letting out a laugh, red eyes focused on the orb that depicted the witch and her beloved, her face showing nothing more than grief and pain, delicious grief that reached the Goddess of Strife's realm of Chaos itself.

This Soul would never be able to find rest; it would never cross over the River Styx. She would remain a Ghost, a spiritual imprint of a former human. How tragically ironic that, one thousand years ago, the same thing happened. Humans are really pitiful creatures. They never learn no matter how many times they make the same choices.

Swirling her drink, she began thinking of a certain night years ago: the previous Aura Seer sacrificing her own life for her "King", the horror in his eyes as her body fell on the street…

She may be a pagan Goddess, but she had grown fond of Christian celebrations when they ended up in tragedy. Altair's early Christmas gift had been _perfect_.

"See what has become of your great-niece, Gwenllian Cordelia," she said out loud before sipping her ambrosia. "Let us watch as she fares against my new champion, now that the one she cherishes above all is no longer in her plane of reality…shall we?"

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**Please, review!**


	39. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", or "Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles". I only own my OC's.**

**A/N: A bit of foreshadowing...and more clues about the Unspeakable! **

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**Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Sacrifice and the Darkest Possible Future**

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Tears were falling down her cheeks and staining the floor as she mourned Myrtle's death, fists shaking with anger, pure anger, at what he had done. Mismatched eyes glared at her smirking enemy, a black notebook that gave off a strange Aura on his hand. "You murdering bastard..."

"It is quite real," Riddle said calmly before pocketing the object. Avery had joined him, her wand held loosely on his right hand. "I needed to make an experiment and Miss Warren proved herself to be quite useful."

"Useful?" She seethed before standing up and setting her magic loose. Standing up, she set her magic loose. "You will pay for this." Mirrors started cracking and simultaneously broke into little pieces as a reflection of her rage, a rage mixed with grief. "You won't succeed, Riddle. Killing innocent people is wrong and one day you will regret it." Her eyes narrowed. "And I swear to you that I will be there to watch your fall!"

Avery laughed, but Riddle remained impassive. "Lord Voldemort doesn't have regrets. It's a pathetic sentiment, just like love. Look at the results, Ashlane." The smirk returned. "Your precious Mudblood died because of you. If there is someone to blame for this tragedy, it is you. _You_ made this happen, Heiress of Slytherin."

"Don't call me that name; that was just something made-up to let my guard down. I don't have anything to do with your Ancestor -" she was cut off by Avery, who trained her wand on her chest, a leer on his face.

"Can we kill her now? She knows the whole thing."

The eagerness on the other's voice and Riddle's cold eyes shimmering with something…evil made her swallow thickly. Squaring her shoulders, she adopted a fighting position. Even without a wand, she was quite good in hand-to-hand combat.

"I have a different idea. Avery, hold her."

The blond prepared to do as he was told, but she was faster than him and threw a right hook at his chin. She retrieved her wand, sending him up close to the ceiling with a non-verbal "_Volare Acendere_" before giving him a roundhouse kick and successfully throwing his body out of the bathroom. If that misogynist ended up with a broken spine or permanently brain dead, she didn't care. He was as guilty of the crime as Riddle was.

She turned her wand on the Prefect and he quickly non-verbally disarmed her. Grabbing both of her wrists, he pushed her into the wall next to the stall, pinning her hands above her head tightly.

"Release me," she demanded, the hatred in her eyes scorching hot. "Once you do, I will strangle you myself in the name of Myrtle's death!"

He smiled at her, a row of shining white teeth that matched those avid-looking eyes that had frequently appeared in her nightmares. "Why would you do such a thing for a girl you never met?"

"No, no, don't erase it, I BEG YOU!"

He released one of her wrists and gripped her chin before beginning to laugh, a cold laugh that made her flinch. "You would beg me, Ashlane? Oh, you poor foolish woman. Did you not learn anything from all those five years? I want you to feel pain, so much pain that you won't even have the strength to stand up. One day in the future you shall wake up all alone with nothing to remember, but the feeling of loss and grief. Not just for the Mudblood." His eyes were glittering as he said these words and Azure swore she had seen a _familiar_ reddish glint in them. "But for every single person that you ever cared for."

"W-what?"

"Starting with the Half-Breed who will be expelled for tonight's events…outside of Hogwarts, he is a very easy target."

Her eyes widened at the implications. _No, no, not Ru too!_

_"Too _easy," he told her, drawing out the first syllable as he reached for her face.

"Please, leave him alone..."

"Why so surprised; children have gone missing in Knockturn Alley before." His thumb caressed her cheek in mock-affection. "What is one more?"

"Don't do anything to him, Riddle. He is no threat to you or the Knights," she pleaded, tears falling from her cheeks. "D-do whatever you want with me…but please, I cannot lose him too…I beg you."

He seemed to ponder this and released her, making her fall on her knees. She lowered her head and focused on her memories with Myrtle. Memories of two very different girls from different worlds who had been brought together by magic. Memories she would lose in the next seconds.

"On principle, I wouldn't care if that half-wit lived or not, but since you asked so politely." The yew wand forced Azure's chin up and she let out a defeated sigh as its tip was lightly pressed against her forehead. "_Obliviate_."

_I am sorry…for not being able to protect you. I love you, Myrtle. _

That was her last thought before her eyes closed and her body slumped against the floor.

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Inside of the Hall of the Prophecies, the spun-glass that had glowed on 13th June of 1937 was once again glowing a soft blue. The letters of the tag now read:

_E.A.T. through H.H. to H.R. _

_T.M.R._

_and A.H.A._

The Unspeakable took note of this change and watched the tag's scrawling disappearing and the spun-glass returning to its usual transparent colour.

She knew what this meant; despite the boy had made his choice, the girl…could still follow their Ancestor's path. The Prophecy clearly wanted the girl to win but the choice would always be hers. If she made the wrong choice and followed the Path that serves the Shadow like her counterpart had done this night…

_"If that happens, an era of Darkness shall befall this world…" _Arista's grim words echoed in the Unspeakable's head.

Striding along the corridors of the Department, the Unspeakable started to recall the last time she dream-walked into her mentor's subconscious: the girl of the Prophecy was now a grown woman with cold red eyes and silver-white hair – exactly like her Ancestor. Clad in a long revealing black dress with long sleeves, she pointed the Elder Wand at the sky, conjuring an ominous green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. A snake-like figure – the boy of the Prophecy – with red eyes was watching her with great interest, his yew wand pulsing as both Master and wand felt the dark power that pulled them to her, a former enemy who had become a weapon of the Heir's own design...

_I did not come to this world to watch its destruction caused by a boy's insane wish for immortality. _

No, she had arrived in this world to seek redemption for her past life's errors. As a former creation of a powerful magician who had attempted to bend the rules of time and space by using innocent lives, she knew that seeking immortality never worked.

She did not want to see this world's darkest possible future, a future where there would be no Soulkeeper to protect a Lost Child.

For if the Soulkeeper failed… _everything_ would end.

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**Please, review!**


	40. Chapter 39

**A/N: Foreshadowing and one revelation concerning "that girl".**

**Trigger warnings: torture, sexual assault (implied).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", "Fantastic Beasts" and "Kuroshitsuji". I only own my OC's.**

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**Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Insidiousness of a Young Dark Lord**

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He unclasped the crucifix from the dead Mudblood's neck and dangled it on his fingers. Pocketing his trophy, he exited the bathroom, quickly reanimating his accomplice's body.

Everything had gone smoothly. His scapegoat would be expelled for the attacks on the Mudbloods – too bad he had promised to not harm the Half-Breed, but he had given his word – Ashlane was no longer a threat and he had created a _Horcrux_.

Ashlane.

_"Legilimency is not to play with, Riddle. Tread carefully; that path led astray too many people who became Dark Wizards…for good intentions."_

_"That spell doesn't work with me, genius. It never will."_

_"The real reason why the Unforgivables are called 'dark' is that when they are cast with full malicious intent, the desire to kill, they harm the Soul of the caster. You slowly become a wraith, a parasitic life form, something that leeches off another person's magical power."_

_"Trying to be something more than human is pure _hubris_. It is against the Law!"_

_ "I am a Blood-traitor, so what? We are all humans, Riddle. We will all die one day. Having magic doesn't change that."_

_"Before you do it, you will be expelled, Riddle! I will tell everyone about your 'great plan'!" _

_"He is a better man than you or those Knights of yours could ever aspire to be. I admire him and I respect him. In his and Aunt Gwen's memory, I swear, right now, that I will not join your 'Dark Order', you megalomaniac twit. That's my final word."_

_"Killing innocent people is wrong and one day you will regret it."_

He had thought of killing that defiant woman first and use her death to create the _Horcrux,_ but he preferred this way; the Mudblood's death had destroyed her from the inside. Look at her now…_Obliviated _of her so-called "love" she had felt towards a Mudblood. That rage and the hatred in her eyes before they turned into pure fear because she indeed had helped him, the Heir of Slytherin, in his path of true greatness, had been so satisfying...

His diary – that he would make into a weapon very soon – had only been the first step to this path. Herpo had stopped at one but Tom wanted more. However, the book from Ashlane's memory he had found in the Restricted Session only gave information on creating one _Horcrux_.

_There must be a way of creating multiple Horcruxes._

Immediately, a familiar image of a half-bald man with a moustache and a large belly appeared, making him smirk. During one of his parties, there would be no harm in having a friendly talk with the newly-appointed Head of Slytherin House…

That professor absolutely adored him. A bit of flattery, politeness, crystallized pineapples and the renowned Potions Master would gladly indulge one of his "privileged" students' curiosity…such an oblivious fool.

"Fake mourning…what a doddle," Avery's voice remarked, his body unseen due to an Invisibility Cloak he had nicked from Charlus Potter. It served him well for constantly bragging about it and leave it in the Quidditch lockers.

_What kind of wizard does not ward his locker? Stupid, overly trusting Gryffindor_. _Potter should have gone to Hufflepuff. _

But he also knew that Chaser was too attached to the Cloak; better return it to him as discreetly as possible.

"Now that our opponent is neutralized, what are the Knights of Walpurgis' next move?"

"We will reunite during this summer at Malfoy Manor. There will be a _soirée_ soon and the Russian Pure-blood family Dolohov has been invited. Their Heir Antonin is transferring to Hogwarts next year. We could use him," Tom replied with the barest hint of a smile, his fingers caressing the small object in his pocket.

No matter how many years passed, he still felt the need of having something personal that belonged to his victims, Hogwarts' rules or not.

_"And be warned: Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts…"_ the old coot's words from that day started echoing in his head, making him wish Dumbledore was dead.

No one tells Lord Voldemort what to do or not to do.

"What is our great leader planning to do now?" Avery asked, not addressing him by his favoured title. His classmate was also the only one who he allowed to call by his first name privately – when he was in the mood for it anyway.

"I will need to do a little family reunion around August." His dark brown eyes had an eagerness to them that was not of the good kind. "Alone."

"Oh?" Tom could imagine his Knight's smirk under the cloak. "Where to?"

Avery was the first wizard he had met in Diagon Alley. A bit of wandless magic was all it took to impress the young Heir. The blond had explained everything he needed to know about this new world, namely the Alliances and the political factions. Bloodlines mattered and Tom happened to have the strongest and most powerful of them once he had revealed the boy his middle name. He would rise as their leader.

But he was not the sharing type. He trusted no one except himself.

"A small village in Yorkshire," he answered vaguely, removing the diary from his pocket's cloak, fingers tracing it. "Little Hangleton. Many years ago, it was a nexus of money and magic…in fact, old families resided there."

_It is time to meet that waste of space that is my father. Tom Riddle Senior, _he thought, smiling as he felt the dark magic in the object. This was true power. A _Horcrux_. The first, but not the last; was not seven the most magical number?

Seven pieces, himself included…perfect.

He had been making plans since Dumbledore showed up. With time, he had gained some resources. One day, the world would bow to him. He would become much more powerful than that meddling old fool, that Tranquilflow witch and Grindelwald. They would be a thing of the past; Lord Voldemort, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin, would go further.

_"Yew and phoenix feather…a most powerful combination. A thousand years ago, there was a great wizard nicknamed Serpent-tongue who used a yew wand. I guess we can expect great things from you, Mr Riddle."_

That wandmaker was right; Tom Riddle was destined to great things. He would become the greatest sorcerer in the world.

_This…is just the beginning. _

"The Gaunts' abode, a family who once had the noble title of 'Marquis'," Avery mused. "Well, since great-great-uncle Corvinus Gaunt graduated, no one in that family is right in the head. Inbreeding has its downsides, I guess."

Tom frowned at the name. Gaunt, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families that Nott's uncle had recorded in his book. The oldest living member was Marvolo Gaunt.

Marvolo. His grandfather's name, according to Mrs Cole…perhaps he should visit him first.

"They fell in disgrace after Marvolo's wife got herself killed with her own spell, from what I've heard from Nott's father," Avery continued before chortling. "And on the top of that, the daughter eloped with some Muggle."

"Is that so?" He said softly and tightened his grip on the diary as he kept his face blank. Inwardly, he was enraged at that woman's selfishness, that poor excuse of a witch who had mucked up her noble, pure bloodline, and abandoned her own son on that filthy Muggle place.

_I refuse to call her my mother. She is only the pitiful and weak woman who gave birth to me, nothing else. _

"Women are such inferior creatures...that's why we have the right to play with them."

Tom silently agreed with his Knight as he pictured the frightened face of the Muggle girl when they had "explored" the cave with Dennis Bishop. He had been punished again months later at the expense of receiving a warning by the Ministry. But it would work in Tom's favour; one week after the "incident", that Muggle had been taken to a madhouse due to constant paranoia and hallucinations.

How ironic; Bishop had commented many times that Tom should go there. Instead, the doctors would diagnose the boy as a "deeply disturbed child". He later found out – on a telegram he had "borrowed" from Mrs Cole – that Bishop had hanged himself on the madhouse's rafters like Stubbs' pet rabbit…exactly as he had said to that girl years ago.

After that first warning, he had never tried anything on the orphans who still feared him, like they should be, either ignoring him or never approaching him instead of babbling to the matron.

But that little girl…feared him the most and he found himself attracted to it. Sometimes, he would hear her play her mouth organ – he had been forced to give his "prize" back when the old coot came to the orphanage – to soothe the much younger orphans.

He had never liked them crying; he had wished several times to wring their necks, but he had to lay low or the bloody Ministry would become suspicious. So, he would stay away from those rooms and read his books like the child he was perceived to be. He had always been highly independent, seldom crying.

Crying was for the weak and he was no weakling.

Despite he could not use his wand due to that blasted Trace Charm that would only disappear at seventeen – except when he was inside of the cave, a place that he made a habit of going there every summer to practice magic because that cave was conveniently unplottable –, which meant he needed to fool it if he wanted to succeed in his plans, there were two things he could do: _Legilimency _and wandless magic_._

But he favoured _Legilimency_; it not only harmed the mind but also the victim's body; That girl would always freeze at his presence instantly, becoming a pretty doll for him to break…slowly and painfully.

An older image of the Muggle's bare and immobilized body under him began to play in his mind, his fingers touching her lips before they trailed down to a faint red mark of a bite – _his_ Mark, albeit it was different from the Mark he had planned for all his Knights to have – on the left side of her neck.

In his fantasies, he didn't need to worry about the silly Statute of Secrecy or over-cautious Ministry officials; he was free to imagine whatever he wanted to, like killing the red-haired Muggle and the Muggle filth that was his father, not in that necessary order, or implanting another nightmarish scene in the girl's mind to make her more pliable.

"Little Amy Benson" was not a little girl anymore. Since this Christmas Holidays, she had become a pretty thing, albeit a far cry from Abraxas's sister Veronica or Avery's fiancée Monfay...still.

Come to think of that, the Muggle would soon be…fourteen?

And their first meeting had been when she was seven…seven. How _appropriate_…

_I want that date to be very memorable to her, _Tom's smirk became but one that could only be described as predatory, _so memorable she will never think of another man again, especially that Muggle she calls 'Jake'. _

Dark brown eyes flashed an eerie red, his hands shaking with fervour as he imagined his wand transfigured into a knife and slowly slicing that Muggle's throat or the latter suffering under the _Cruciatus_ and that girl completely frozen, her eyes begging for him to stop.

Breaking her mind always aroused him, more than Ashlane's; Amy had hurt him first so it was only fair he did the same. And that look of vivid fear in her eyes…

_She may be a Muggle but she is mine, _he licked his lips delectably. All_ of her._

"Some of them take their time to break," Avery's voice muttered before letting out a low chuckle. "Might as well make it worth, huh, Tom?"

"Yes...until they outlived their usefulness," the Heir of Slytherin added with a malicious grin, his thumb caressing the small silver cross that could be used as protection against evil, a word that meant nothing to him, like "good"; in this world, what you need is power…power over everyone and everything.

Including Death.

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**Please, review!**


	41. Chapter 40

**A/N: And this is the end...of the first book! **

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", Eris from "Sinbad and the Legend of the Seven Seas" and the _Nogitsune, _a creature from Japanese folklore (they enjoy creating chaos), only my OC's.

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**Chapter Forty: She Who Revels in Chaos**

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Eris chuckled, her index finger poking the orb showing her champion and his cloaked Knight. "Little Hangleton…a very interesting place to spend some of your free time."

She picked another floating orb that depicted a young woman with an apron who was carrying a silver tray to her employers: a family of three. They were sat inside of a large living room and one of them resembled Tom as a mid-thirties adult: pale, dark-haired and very handsome. "Why, hello there, my dear champion's progenitor. Now I know where your son got the genes, as his poor mother was not easy on the eyes."

A pair of purple lips curled upwards before they parted, allowing its owner to take a sip of ambrosia. "Aphrodite would immediately pity her but you…she would like you. Aren't you quite the handsome fellow, Tom Riddle Senior?" Her fingers carelessly dropped the orb on the floor. "Too bad that dear Atropos will cut your Fate with her Shears, along with your parents'. But you will meet your son who came all the way from London to see you…"

She snickered evilly, eyes brimming with anticipation for the Chaos that would be unleashed during the Summer Holidays. If the new Soulkeeper couldn't find the Lost Child, then the latter would be forever with Tom, who wanted to break her in every possible way…something she was _very_ looking forward to seeing.

_"It is in my nature to be Evil, brethren," _she had said, enjoying the disapproving look on Hypnos' face. _"My champions' actions speak for themselves. Humans call me the Goddess of Strife and Discord but I am much more: I am the Darkness to the Light."_

_S_he

"With the Lost Child separated from her Soulmate, the one that will bring balance will never be born." Eris licked her lips as scenes of a world consumed by her Darkness began filling her head. "And the world…so glorious it will become, full of Chaos..."

If the humans or the other deities want someone to blame for the "Hell on Earth" she had envisioned, they can blame Nyx and Erebus for giving birth to the one who revels in Chaos. The other deities – except those wickedly attractive foxes, who she sometimes had worked with on occasion – may call her "perverted sexual sadistic bitch" but such words were meaningless to Eris; there was nothing sweeter to her than the loss of (all kinds of) innocence.

Summoning another orb, the Goddess looked interestedly at what was being reflected: the Lost Child on her bed, crying and silently calling for her Soulmate.

"I will enjoy this," she purred, her forefinger tracing the orb. "Especially what will happen during your next birthday…right, little Amy Benson?"

It made her no difference if Chaos was brought by an entire group or a single individual. It didn't even have to be a champion; humans were violent and foolish beings, making them the best toys. They were so insignificant, so full of themselves and so easy to break…some more than others.

* * *

Olive had no idea why she was here; the last thing she remembered was mocking Myrtle's glasses, which had sent the ugly girl into another of her fits that had diminished in the last two years due to Ashlane. But she had no idea why she would do anything to anger that volatile Blood-traitor.

"It just doesn't make sense," she muttered, slamming the door open. "Ugly Myrtle, if you're here-"

She stopped, eyes widening at the horrible sight in front of her: broken mirrors, cracks in the ceiling, and two figures on the floor, one near the stalls on her right, the other more to her left side.

"A-Ashlane?" She whispered, recognizing the barefoot Slytherin. She slowly pulled out her wand and pointed it at Ashlane's body, using a quick diagnosis spell that indicated if someone was dead or alive, watching as the wand's tip glowed blue. Blue was good.

Swallowing thickly, she turned to the right and repeated the spell, drawing a sharp breath when the tip turned red for a second. She approached the body and shrieked. A high-pitch sobbing caught her attention and she searched for its source, finding the back of semi-transparent figure close to the window. The figure whipped its head around before gliding forward, stopping in front of the shell-shocked Olive.

The childish hairstyle, the glasses and that sullen expression…

"It is your fault, Olive Hornby!" The apparition shouted and pointed an accusing finger at the blonde, prompting the latter to storm out of the bathroom.

"MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!"

Running and shrieking like a _Banshee_, Olive failed to realize she had passed by a Prefect whose lips slowly curved upwards in the semblance of a smile.

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**End of Book I.**

**In the second book, we will learn more about Soulkeepers, the "Prophecy", Amy Benson, Dennis Bishop, the "red-haired Muggle", Soulmates, the witch called Monfay, the Unspeakable, Professor Tranquilflow and her Ghost friend mentioned in the "Introduction" - hint: she is connected to the Founders -, what are the Phantomhives' role in all of this mess and what happened to Lizzy, Professor Slughorn's dear friend, and the former fiancée of the Earl Phantomhive.**

**I also decided to make 1944 a Triwizard Tournament year so there will be references to the champions and some characters that are related to canon characters, such as "Prince", a sickly-looking witch who will be Severus Snape's mother. But most importantly, Hagrid's fate. Will he be expelled? Will our amnesiac protagonist find a way to recover her memories? You just have to wait and see.**

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** PLEASE REVIEW! **


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